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COKflRIGHT DEPOSip 



The Friendly Year 



BY HENRY VAN DYKE 

The Unknown Quantity 
The Ruling Passion 
The Blue Flower 



Out-of-Doors in the Holy Land 
Days Off 
Little Rivers 
Fisherman's Luck 



Poems, Collection in one volume 



The Grand Canyon, and Other Poems 
The White Bees, and Other Poems 
The Builders, and Other Poems 
Music, and Other Poems 
The Toiling of Felix, and Other Poems 
The House of Rimmon 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 





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J^^ i/,/^/y >Ti^^^ c^ZZ^y/L^ 



The Friendly Year 

Chosen and Arranged from the 

Works of 
Henry van Dyke, D.C.L. (Oxon.) 



By 
George Sidney Webster, D.D. 

Secretary of The American Seamen's Friend Society 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1917 






Copyright, 1887. 1893, 1S98. 1903. by Henry van 
Dyke; 1887, 1889, 1891, 1892. 1895, iS97. 1898. 
1898, 1899. 1900, 1901, 1902, 1904, 1905. 190S. 
1905, 1907. 1908, 1911, 1912. 1914, 1917, by 
Charles Scribner's Sons; 1893. iSqS, 1899, 1906, 
1913, by Harper & Brothers; 1896, 1899, i9io. 
by The MacmiUan Company ; 1897. 1900, 1903, by 
T. Y. Crowell & Co. ; 1900, by The Outlook Company 



All rights rcsened 




0CTT7 1917 

{.^5 

IG;.A477096 



Preface 

The books of Henry van Dyke are well known to 
many classes of readers. He has worked in various 
literary forms : stories, essays, criticism, and poetry. 
The unity of his work is found in the individuality of a 
style marked by simplicity, clearness, and directness, and 
in the manifest influence of "a human aim, — to cheer, 
console, purify, or ennoble the life of the people." 

In making this little year-book of selections, the sug- 
gestion of which is entirely my own, I have not sought 
to illustrate literary qualities, so much as to bring out the 
dominant note of human friendliness and comradeship, 
which runs through the writings of an author who 
knows books well, but who cares more for people. 

I hereby express grateful appreciation of the kind 
courtesy of The Macmillan Company, Harper & Broth- 
ers, Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., and The Outlook Com- 
pany, for permission to use their copyrighted material. 

G. S. W. 

New York, 
September 21, 1900. 



Preface to Revised Edition 

The passing years have brought so many friends who 
have enjoyed these brief selections and also so many 
new volumes from Dr. van Dyke, that a new edition 
seemed to be necessary. 

From the eight volumes issued since 1900, selections 
have been chosen, which illustrate more emphatically 
thar those they replace the dominant spirit of a beloved 
author and loyal friend. 

G. S. W. 

New York, 
October ist, 1906. 



Preface to Second Revised Edition 

The host of friendly readers of Dr. van Dyke's 
writings rejoice at the international recognition and 
honours which his distinguished services have brought 
to him. 

The new selections found in this edition are chosen 
from the nine volumes issued since 1906, and especially 
exemplify his patriotic spirit. 

G. S. W. 

New York, 
October 15th, 1917. 



Bibliography 



I, 1887. The Story of the Psalms. New York: 
Charles Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. iv, 259. 

II. 1889. The Poetry of Tennyson. Tenth edition, re- 
vised and enlarged, with a new Preface, 1 898. New 
York: Charles Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. xvi, 

437. 

III. 1893. The Christ-Child in Art. A Study of Inter- 
pretation. Illustrated. New York and London : 
Harper & Brothers. 8vo, pp. xvi, 236. 

IV» 1893. Sermons to Young Men. A new and en- 
larged edition of ** Straight Sermons." New York : 
Charles Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. xvi, 253. 

V. 1895. The Story of the Other Wise Man. Frontis- 
piece. New York and London : Harper & Brothers. 
i6mo, pp. xvi, 70. 

VI. 1895. Little Rivers. A Book of Essays in Profitable 
Idleness. Illustrated. New York: Charles Scribe 
ner's Sons. i 2mo, pp. 291. 

VII. 1 896. The Gospel for an Age of Doubt. New York : 
The Macmillan Company. London : Macmillan & 
Co., Ltd. 1 2mo, pp. xxviii, 329. 

VIII. 1897. Ships and Havens. New York : Thomas Y, 
Crowell & Co. I zmo, pp. 3 7. 

ix 



IX. 
X. 

XI. 

XII. 



XIII. 

XIV. 
XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 
XVIII. 

XIX. 



1897. The Builders and Other Poems. New York: 
Charles Scribner's Sons. izmo, pp. 87, 

1897. The First Christmas Tree. A Story of the 
Forest. Illustrated. New York : Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons. 8vo, pp. 76. 

1898. The Lost Word. A Christmas Legend of 
Long Ago. Illustrated. New York : Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons. 8vo, pp. 71. 

1899. The Gospel for a World of Sin. A Com- 
panion Volume to *« The Gospel for an Age of 
Doubt." New York: The Macmillan Company. 
London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd. izmo, pp. x, 
195. 

1899. Fisherman's Luck, and Some Other Uncertain 
Things. Illustrated. New York : Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons. i2mo, pp. 247. 

1900. The Toiling of Felix and Other Poems. New 
York: Charles Scribner's Sons. izmo, pp. 88. 

1900. The Poetry of the Psalms. For Readers of 
the English Bible. New York : Thomas Y. Crowell 
& Co. izmo, pp. z6. 

1 90 1. The Ruling Passion. Tales of Nature and 
Human Nature. Illustrated. New York : Charles 
Scribner's Sons. izmo, pp. Z96. 

190Z. The Blue Flower. Illustrated. New York : 
Charles Scribner's Sons. izmo, pp. Z99. 

1903. The Open Door. Philadelphia : Presbyterian 
• Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 
izmo, pp. 160. 

1903. Joy and Power. 
Meaning. New York 
izmo, pp. 75. 

X 



Three Messages with One 
Thomas Y, Crowell & Co. 



XX. 1904. Music and Other Poems. New York: Charles 

Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. 116. 
XXI. 1905. The School of Life. New York: Charles 
Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. 37. 
XXII. 1905. Essays in Application. New York: Charles 
Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. 282. 

XXIII. 1905. The Spirit of Christmas. Frontispiece. New 

York: Charles Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. 59. 

XXIV. 1906. The Americanism of Washington. New York 

and London: Harper & Brothers. i6mo, pp. 72. 
XXV. 1907. Days Off and Other Digressions. Illustrated. 

New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo, pp. 332. 
XXVI. 1908. Out-of-Doors in the Holy Land. Impressions 
of Travel in Body and Spirit. Illustrated. New 
York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo, pp. 325. 
XXVII. 1910. The Spirit of America. New York: The Mac- 

millan Company. 8vo, pp. 276. 
XXVIII. 191 1. The Poems of Henry van Dyke. Now first col- 
lected and revised with many hitherto unpublished. 
Frontispiece. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 
8vo, pp. 467. 
XXIX. 1912. The Unknown Quantity. A Book of Romance 
and Some Half-Told Tales. Illustrated. New York: 
Charles Scribner's Sons. 8vo, pp. xvi, 370. 
XXX. 191 3. The Lost Boy. Illustrated. New York and 
London: Harper & Brothers. i6mo, pp. 69. 
XXXI. 1914. The Grand Canyon and Other Poems. New 

York: Charles Scribner's Sons. i2mo, pp. vi, 78. 
XXXII. 1917. The Red Flower. New York: Charles Scribner's 
Sons. In Press October, 19 17. 

The Roman numerals at the end of each selection will enable 
the reader to identify, by reference to the foregoing list, the book 
from which it is taken. The Arabic numerals indicate the page 
on which the passage or stanza may be found. 



XI 



€ljc f rietiMp Bear 



€1^0 f ootr^patl) to ^eace 

To be glad of life, because it gives you the 
chance to love and to work and to play and 
to look up at the stars ; to be contented with 
your possessions, but not satisfied with your- 
self until you have made the best of them; to 
despise nothing in the world except falsehood 
and meanness, and to fear nothing except 
cowardice ; to be governed by your admira- 
tions rather than by your disgusts j to covet 
nothing that is your neighbour's except his 
kindness of heart and gentleness of manners ; 
to think seldom of your enemies, often of your 
friends, and every day of Christ ; and to spend 
as much time as you can, with body and with 
spirit, in God's out-of-doors — these are little 
guide-posts on the foot-path to peace. 



Cf)e jfttentilj? iear 



Four things a man must learn to do T^he com- 

If he would make his record true : pass 

To think without confusion clearly ; 
To love his fellow-men sincerely; 
To act from honest motives purely ; 
To trust in God and heaven securely. 

—IX, 39- 

S^anuarp ^cconU 

" Carry this little flower with you. It's not White 
the bonniest blossom in Scotland, but it's the heather 
dearest, for the message that it brings. And 
you will remember that love is not getting, but 
giving ; not a wild dream of pleasure, and a 
madness of desire — oh no, love is not that — 
it is goodness, and honour, and peace, and pure 
living — yes, love is that \ and it is the best 
thing in the world, and the thing that lives 
longest. And that is what I am wishing for 
you and yours with this bit of white heather." 
— VI, 114. 



3Fanuarp tl)xr& 



A woman "^^ 

A YOUNG WOMAN 



to love 



OF AN OLD FASHION 

WHO LOVES ART 

NOT FOR ITS OWN SAKE 

BUT BECAUSE IT ENNOBLES LIFE 

WHO READS POETRY 

NOT TO KILL TIME 

BUT TO FILL IT WITH BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS 

AND WHO STILL BELIEVES 

IN GOD AND DUTY AND IMMORTAL LOVE 

^ I DEDICATE 

THIS BOOK 



— II, Dedication. 



^Fanuarp fourtft 

Brother' If I can feel sympathy, — feel it within and 

hood without, — then the dew falls and the desert be- 

gins to blossom. By sympathy I do not mean 
merely a fellowship in sorrow, but also, and no 
less truly, a fellowship in joy — a feeling {oi 
which we ought to have an English word. To 
be glad when your brother men are prosperous 
and happy, to rejoice in their success, to cheer 
for their victories ; to be compassionate and 
pitiful when your brother men are distressed 
and miserable, to grieve over their failures, to 
help them in their troubles, — this is the fra- 
ternal spirit which blesses him who exercises 
it, and those toward whom it is exercised. — 
I, 245. 



Only a little shrivelled seed, A flower 

It might be flower, or grass, or weed j ^nd a soul 

Only a box of earth on the edge 

Of a narrow, dusty window-ledge ; 

Only a few scant summer showers ; 

Only a few clear shining hours; 

That was all. Yet God could make 

Out of these, for a sick child's sake, 

A blossom-wonder, as fair and sweet 

As ever broke at an angel's feet. 

Only a life of barren pain, 
Wet with sorrowful tears for rain, 
Warmed sometimes by a wandering gleam 
Of joy, that seemed but a happy dream j 
A life as common and brown and bare 
As the box of earth in the window there ; 
Yet it bore, at last, the precious bloom 
Of a perfect soul in that narrow room ; 
Pure as the snowy leaves that fold 
Over the flower's heart of gold. — ix, 41. 

S^anuarp ^ijctf) 

When our world learns this lesson ; when Epiphany 
pride bows down to meekness, and experience 
does homage to innocence; when every child 
is reverenced as a royal heir of heaven because 
it is a brother of the Christ-child — then the 
Epiphany will come, and a great light will 
lighten the nations. — iii, 145. 

5 



The faith Happy and strong and brave shall we be, — 

that stead- able to endure all things, and to do all things, — 
ies us if we believe that every day, every hour, every 

moment of our life is in His hands. — i, 154. 



The minor It is not required of every man and woman 
parts to be, or to do, something great ; most of us 

must content ourselves with taking small parts 
in the chorus, as far as possible without dis- 
cord. Shall we have no little lyrics because 
Homer and Dante have written epics ? And 
because we have heard the great organ at Frei- 
burg, shall the sound of Kathi's zither in the 
alpine hut please us no more ? Even those 
who have greatness thrust upon them will do 
well to lay the burden down now and then, 
and congratulate themselves that they are not 
altogether answerable for the conduct of the 
universe, or at least not all the time. " I 
reckon," said a cow-boy to me one day, as 
we were riding through the Bad Lands of Da- 
kota, " there's some one bigger than me run- 
ning this outfit. He can 'tend to it well 
enough, while I smoke my pipe after the 
round-up." — vi, 30. 

6 



Here friendship lights the fire, and every heart, By the 
Sure of itself and sure of all the rest, fireside 

Dares to be true, and gladly takes its part 
In open converse, bringing forth its best : 
Here is sweet music, melting every chain 

Of lassitude and pain: 
And here, at last, is sleep, the gift of gifts, 

The tender nurse, who lifts 
The soul grown weary of the waking world, 
And lays it, with its thoughts all furled. 
Its fears forgotten, and its passions still. 
On the deep bosom of the Eternal Will. 

— XX, 28. 



There is no less virtue, but rather more. Work as 
in events, tasks, duties, obligations, than there an educatoi 
is in books. Work itself has a singular 
power to unfold and develop our nature. 
The difference is not between working people 
and thinking people, but between people who 
work without thinking and people who think 
while they work. — xxi, 20. 



3Ianuarj> elebentfi 

New York Now looking deeper in my dream, I see 
City A mighty city covering the isle 

They call Manhattan, equal in her state 
To all the older capitals of earth, — 
The gateway city of a golden world, — 
A city girt with masts, and crowned with 

spires, 
And swarming with a million busy men. 
While to her open door across the bay 
The ships of all the nations flock like doves. 

— XXVIII, 150. 



3fanttar|> tUielftij 

^'America I know that Europe's wonderful, yet some- 
for me^* thing seems to lack: 

The Past is too much with her, and the 
people looking back. 

Oh, it's home again, and home again, 

America for me ! 
I want a ship that's westward bound 

to plough the rolling sea, 
To the blessed Land of Room Enough 

beyond the ocean bars, 
Where the air is full of sunlight and 

the flag is full of stars. 

— XXVIII, 167. 

8 



S^anuarp tl^itteentfi 

Let me but love my love without disguise. Love 
Nor wear a mask of fashion old or new, 
Nor wait to speak till I can hear a clue. 

Nor play a part to shine in others' eyes, 

Nor bow my knees to what my heart denies ; 
But what I am, to that let me be true. 
And let me worship where my love is due, 

And so through love and worship let me rise. 

For love is but the heart's immortal thirst 
To be completely known and all forgiven, 
Even as sinful souls that enter Heaven : 
So take me, dear, and understand my worst, 
And freely pardon it, because confessed, 
And let me find in loving thee, my best. 

—XX, 51. 



S^anuarp fourteenth 

There is something finer than to do right Joy a test 
against inclination ; and that is to have an 
inclination to do right. There is something 
nobler than reluctant obedience ; and that is 
joyful obedience. The rank of virtue is not 
measured by its disagreeableness, but by its 
sweetness to the heart that loves it. The 
real test of character is joy. For what you 
rejoice in, that you love. And what you 
love, that you are like. — xix, 10. 



S^anuarp ftfteentf) 

The blue Then I looked ofF to the blue hills, 

flower shadowy and dreamlike, the boundary of the 

little world that I knew. And there, in a 
cleft between the highest peaks I saw a 
wondrous thing : for the place at which I 
was looking seemed to come nearer and 
nearer to me ; I saw the trees, the rocks, the 
ferns, the white road winding before me ; the 
enfolding hills unclosed like leaves, and in 
the heart of them I saw a Blue Flower, so 
bright, so beautiful that my eyes filled with 
tears as I looked. It was hke a face that 
smiled at me and promised something. Then 
I heard a call, like the note of a trumpet very 
far away, calling me to come. And as I 
listened the flower faded into the dimness of 
the hills. — XVII, 24. 



^Fanuatp ^txteentt) 

Tour point Learn also how to appraise criticism, to 
of view value enmity, to get the good of being blamed 
and evil spoken of. A soft social life is not 
likely to be very noble. You can hardly tell 
whether your faiths and feelings are real until 
they are attacked. ■ 

But take care that you defend them with 
an open mind and by right reason. You are 
entitled to a point of view, but not to an- 
nounce it as the centre of the universe. 

—XXI, 33. 

10 



" Joy is a duty," — so with golden lore Joy and 

The Hebrew rabbis taught in days of yore, duty 
And happy human hearts heard in their speech 
Almost the highest wisdom man can reach. 

But one bright peak still rises far above. 
And there the Master stands whose name is 

Love, 
Saying to those whom weary tasks employ : 
" Life is divine when Duty is a Joy." — ix, 51. 

SFanuarp ci0l)teenti) 

The strength of your life is measured by the The power 
strength of your will. But the strength of of wishes 
your will is just the strength of the wish that 
lies behind it. And the strength of your wish 
depends upon the sincerity and earnestness 
and tenacity with which you fix your atten- 
tion upon the things which are really great 
and worthy to be loved. This is what the 
Apostle means when he says, at the close of 
his description of a life which is strong, and in- 
wardly renewed, and growing in glory even in 
the midst of affliction, — " while we look not 
at the things which are seen, but at the things 
which are unseen." It is while we look that 
we learn to love. It is by loving that we 
learn to seek. And it is in seeking that we 
find and are blessed. — iv, 75. 



II 



^Fanuatp ninetemtt) 

Concreu I am no friend to purely psychological at- 

friendship tachments. In some unknown future they 
may be satisfying, but in the present I want 
your words and your voice, with your thoughts, 
your looks, and your gestures, to interpret your 
feelings. The warm, strong grasp of Great- 
heart's hand is as dear to me as the steadfast 
fashion of his friendships ; the lively, sparkling 
eyes of the master of Rudder Grange charm 
me as much as the nimbleness of his fancy ; 
and the firm poise of the Hoosier School- 
master's shaggy head gives me new confidence 
in the solidity of his views of life. — vi, 13. 



Patron It may be that some saint dearer to you 

mints than any whose names are written among the 

Old Testament worthies — your own faithful 
mother, the father who prayed with you at 
the family altar, the friend who walked close 
beside you in the journey of life — is looking 
down upon you and watching your path to- 
day. And of this be sure : If you are fol- 
lowing in the footsteps of Christ, if you are 
trying to do good, if you are sacrificing your- 
self for others, if you are treading the path of 
duty and devotion, these are the things which 
they understand, and for which they bless and 
love you. — iv, 181. 

12 



Epigrams are worth little for guidance to Wit versus 
the perplexed, and less for comfort to the wisdom 
wounded. But the plain, homely sayings 
which come from a soul that has learned the 
lesson of patient courage in the school of real 
experience, fall upon the wound like drops of 
balsam, and like a soothing lotion upon the 
eyes smarting and blinded with passion. — vi, 
no. 



S^anuarp ttomtp:^^econti 

But after all, the very best thing In good Friendh 
talk, and the thing that helps it most, is friend- talk 
ship. How it dissolves the barriers that divide 
us, and loosens all constraint, and diffuses it- 
self like some fine old cordial through all the 
veins of life — this feeling that we understand 
and trust each other, and wish each other 
heartily well ! Everything into which it really 
comes is good. It transforms letter-writing 
from a task into a pleasure. It makes music 
a thousand times more sweet. The people 
who play and sing not at us, but to us, — how 
delightful it is to listen to them ! Yes, there 
is a talkability that can express itself even 
without words. There is an exchange of 
thought and feeling which is happy alike in 
speech and in silence. It is quietness per- 
vaded with friendship. — xiii, 70. 

13 



3^anuarp ttuentp::^tl)irli 

Life-giv' Surely there Is nothing else in all the world 

i?ig love so life-giving as the knowledge that we are 
loved. Even in our human relationships, 
when this knowledge comes to us it lifts us 
out of the dust and thrills us with vital power. 
How many a heart has been revived and 
emancipated, enlarged and ennobled, by 
knowing that somewhere in the world there 
was another heart moving toward it in the 
tenderness and glory of love. — xviii, 157. 



5^anuatp ttoentp^fouttli 

Booh To get the good of the library In the 

school of life you must bring Into it some- 
thing better than a mere bookish taste. You 
must bring the power to read, between the 
lines, behind the words, beyond the horizon 
of the printed page. Philip's question to the 
chamberlain of Ethiopia was crucial : " Un- 
derstandest thou what thou readest ? " I 
want books not to pass the time, but to fill It 
with beautiful thoughts and Images, to en- 
large my world, to give me new friends in 
the spirit, to purify my Ideals and make them 
clear, to show me the local colour of un- 
known regions and the bright stars of uni- 
versal truth. — XXI, 18. 

14 



S^anuatp ttocntp:^ftftl) 

The literary life, at its best, is one that Great looks 
demands a clear and steady mind, a free spirit, and small 
and great concentration of effort. The cares rooms 
of a splendid establishment and the distrac- 
tions of a complicated social life are not 
likely, in the majority of cases, to make it 
easier to do the best work. Most of the 
great books, I suppose, have been written in 
rather small rooms xxii, 133. 



3^anuarp ttaentp^^ijctli 

It was a bare, rude place, but the dish of Manners^ 
juicy trout was garnished with flowers, each plain and 
fish holding a big pansy in its mouth, and as good 
the maid set them down before me she wished 
me " a good appetite," with the hearty old- 
fashioned Tyrolese courtesy which still sur- 
vives in these remote valleys. It is pleasant 
to travel in a land where the manners are plain 
and good. If you meet a peasant on the 
road he says, " God greet you ! " if you give 
a child a couple of kreuzers he folds his hands 
and says, " God reward you ! " and the maid 
who lights you to bed says, " Good-night, I 
hope you will sleep well ! " — vi, 176. 

IS 



gpanuarp ttoentp^^e^eijentl^ 

God^s gar- Saints are God's flowers, fragrant souls 
den That His own hand hath planted, 

Not in some far-ofF heavenly place, 

Or solitude enchanted, 
But here and there and everywhere, — 
In lonely field, or crowded town, 
God sees a flower when He looks down. 

Some wear the lily's stainless white. 
And some the rose of passion. 

And some the violet's heavenly blue, 
But each in its own fashion, 

With silent bloom and soft perfume, 
Is praising Him who from above 
Beholds each lifted face of love. — ix, 49. 

^Panuarp ttoentp;^eigl)tf^ 

The wind Here is the sea on which you float, the sea 

and the of human life, with its shifting tides and cur- 
r udder rents. Yonder is the sky that bends above 

you, the pure and sovereign will of God. Out 
of that unsearchable heaven comes the breath 
of the Spirit, like "the wind that bloweth 
where it listeth, and thou canst not tell whence 
it Cometh and whither it goeth." If you will 
spread your sail to catch that breath of life, 
if you will lay your course and keep your 
rudder true, you will be carried onward in 
peace and safety to your desired haven. — iv, 
221. 

16 



^Fanuatp ttoentp^nintf^ 

There is no gate into heaven except at the Jt the end 
end of the path of duty. There is not even of the path 
an honoured and peaceful grave for us until 
vi^e can say with the Master, " I have glorified 
thee on the earth, I have finished the work thou 
gavest me to do." — iv, i86. 



^fanuarp tljirtietft 

It is not half as far from Albany to Aber- A drop of 
deen as it is from New York to London. In Scotch 
fact, I venture to say that an American on 
foot will find himself less a foreigner in Scot- 
land than in any other country in the Old 
World. There is something warm and hos- 
pitable — if he knew the language well enough 
he would call it couthy — in the greeting that 
he gets from the shepherd on the moor, and 
the conversation that he holds with the farm- 
er's wife in the stone cottage, where he stops 
to ask for a drink of milk and a bit of oat- 
cake. He feels that there must be a drop of 
Scotch somewhere in his mingled blood, or at 
least that the texture of his thought and feel- 
ings had been partly woven on a Scottish loom 
— perhaps the Shorter Catechism, or Robert 
Burns's poems, or the romances of Sir Waltei 
Scott. — VI, 93. 

17 



Life's ad- All faith recognizes that life is a pilgrimagt 

venture whose course and duration cannot be foreseen. 
That is true, indeed, whether we acknowledge 
it or not. Even if a man should fancy that 
his existence was secure, and that he could 
direct his own career and predict his own 
future, experience would teach him his mis- 
take. But the point is that faith recognizes 
this uncertainty of life at the outset, and in a 
peculiar way, which transforms it from a 
curse into a blessing and makes it possible for 
us even to be glad that we must " go out not 
knowing whither we go." — iv, 131. 



Making up We say that we " make up our minds *' to 
our minds do a certain thing or not to do it, to resist a 
certain temptation or to yield to it. It is 
true. We " make up our minds " in a deeper 
sense than we remember. In every case the 
ultimate decision is between two future selves, 
one with whom the virtue is harmonious, an- 
other with who-m the vice is consistent. To 
one of these two figures, dimly concealed be- 
hind the action, we move forward. What 
we forget is, that, when the forward step is 
taken, the shadow will be myself. Character 
is eternal destiny. — viii, 29. 

18 



f efimarp ^ttonh 

Every country — or at least every country Traveller^ i 
thai is fit for habitation — has its own rivers ; wisdom 
and every river has its own quality ; and it is 
the part of wisdom to know and love as many 
as you can, seeing each in the fairest possible 
light, and receiving from each the best that it 
has to give. — vi, 14. 



f eBnmrp tl^irft 

It is with rivers as it is with people : the A choice in 
greatest are not always the most agreeable nor comrades 
the best to live with. Diogenes must have 
been an uncomfortable bedfellow ; Antinoiis 
was bored to death in the society of the Emperor 
Hadrian ; and you can imagine much better 
company for a walking-trip than Napoleon 
Bonaparte. Semiramis was a lofty queen, but 
I fancy that Ninus had more than one bad 
quarter-of-an-hour with her : and in " the 
spacious times of great Elizabeth " there was 
many a milkmaid whom the wise man would 
have chosen for his friend, before the royal 
red-haired virgin. — vi, 15. 

19 



Jrlu'UiU'u uniitU 

^^^ With eager heart auvl will on hre, 

I Knij::,ht to win n\\ great desire. 
^*' Peace shall be mine," I said ; but life 
Grew bitter in the endless strife. 

My Sv^ul w .IS wear)', and mv pride 
Was wounded deep: to Heaven I cried, 
^^ God grant me jvaoe or I must die i " 
The dumb stars glittered no replv. 

Broken at last, I Knvevl mv head. 
Forgetting all mvself, and said, 
^» Whatever cvm\es. His will be done;** 
And in that moment j^eaee was won. 

— 1>^. 53 

f rfintiim ftftti 

Thf sw^t^ A new dovu ot' happu\ess is o^xMievi when vou 
«c\v (ff s^sLf- o;v> out to hunt tor something and discover it 
^i^ with vour own eves. But there is an ex^xri- 

ence even better than that. \\ hen you have 
stupidlY forgv>tten [ox despondently foregone) 
to look about vou for the unclaimevi treasures 
and unearnevi blessings which are scattered 
along the bv-wavs of life, then, sometimes by 
a special mercv, a small sample of them is 
quietlY laid before vou so that vou cannot help 
seeing it, and it brings you back, mighty 
sweetlv, to a sense oi the joyful possibilities 
of living. — xiu, 8i. 



There is magic in words, surely, and many " Open 
a treasure besides AJj Haba's is unlocked with }e:ame/'* 
a verbal key. Some charm in the mere sound, 
some association with the pleasant past, 
touches a secret spring. 7'he bars are down ; 
the gate is open ; you are made free of all 
the fields of memory and fancy — by a word. 
— vj, 183. 



f ebcuarp 0cbcntf) 

The word of Jesus in the mind of one who Learning 
does not do the will of Jesus, lies like seed- h ^^^^^ 
corn in a mummy's hand. It is only by 
dwelling with Him and receiving His char- 
acter. His personality so profoundly, so vitally 
that it shall be with us as if, in His own 
words, we had partaken of His flesh and His 
blood, as if His sacred humanity had been 
interwoven with the very fibres of our heart 
and pulsed with secret power in all our veins, 
— it is thus only that we can be enabled to 
see His teaching as it is, and set it forth with 
'jjminous conviction to the souls of men. — 
VII, 201. 

21 



f eBruarp cigtjtl^ 

People What we call society Is very narrow. But 

worth life is very broad. It includes " the whole 

meeting world of God's cheerful, fallible men and 
women." It is not only the famous people 
and the well-dressed people who are worth 
meeting. It is everyone who has something 
to communicate. — xxi, 34. 



f cBruarp nintl) 

What is I wonder how often the inhabitant of the 

built into snug Queen Anne cottage in the suburbs re- 
^our house? members the picturesque toil and varied hard- 
ship that it has cost to hew and drag his walls 
and floors and pretty peaked roofs out of the 
backwoods. It might enlarge his home, and 
make his musings by the winter fireside less 
commonplace, to give a kindly thought now 
and then to the long chain of human workers 
through whose hands the timber of his house 
has passed, since it first felt the stroke of the 
axe in the snow-bound winter woods, and 
floated, through the spring and summer, on 
far-off lakes and little rivers, au large. — vi, 220. 

22 



ftbtuatp tentfi 

The first thing that commended the The lateral 
Church of Jesus to the weary and disheart- force of 
ened world in the early years of her triumph, j'^y 
was her power to make her children happy, — 
happy in the midst of afflictions, happy in the 
release from the burden of guilt, happy in 
the sense of Divine Fatherhood and human 
brotherhood, happy in Christ's victory over 
sin and death, happy in the assurance of an 
endless life. At midnight in the prison, Paul 
and Silas sang praises, and the prisoners heard 
them. The lateral force of joy, — that was 
the power of the Church. — xix, 8. 

jFefiruatp elebentft 

The largest claim that a cheerful man who A better 
is also a thoughtful man — a child of hope world 
with his eyes open — dares to make for the 
world is that it is better than it used to be, 
and that it has a fair prospect of further im- 
provement. This is meliorism, the philoso- 
phy of actual and possible betterment ; not a 
high-stepping, trumpet-blowing, self-flattering 
creed, immediately available for advertising 
purposes ; but a modest and sober faith, use- 
ful for consolation in those hours of despond- 
ency and personal disappointment when the 
grasshopper and the critic both become a 
burden. — xxii, 6. 

23 



f cBruarp ttdelftlj 

Lincoln'' s The unreconstructed and the unreconciled 

birthday people belong to the soles of the feet. Those 
who are raised high enough to be able to look 
over the stone walls, those who are intelligent 
enough to take a broader view of things than 
that which is bounded by the lines of any one 
state or section, understand that the unity of 
the nation is of the first importance, and are 
prepared to make those sacrifices and conces- 
sions, within the bounds of loyalty, which are 
necessary for its maintenance, and to cherish 
that temper of fraternal affection which alone 
can fill the form of national existence with 
the warm blood of life. The first man, after 
the civil war, to recognize this great principle 
and to act upon it was the head of the nation, 
— that large and generous soul whose worth 
was not fully felt until he was taken from his 
people by the stroke of the assassin, in the 
very hour when his presence was most needed 
for the completion of the work of reunion. — 
I, 240. 



f eBmarp tftitteentfi 

Prayer: the Prayer is the believer's comfort and sup- 
strength of port, his weapon of defence, his light in dark- 
the weak ness, his companionship in solitude, his foun- 
tain in the desert, his hope and his deliverance. 
—I, 193. 

24 



f eBmarp fouttcmtl) 

Have we not all felt the shrinkage of the Shrunken 
much-vaunted miracles of science into the miracles 
veriest kitchen utensils of a comfort-worship- 
ping society ? Physical powers have been 
multiplied by an unknown quantity, but it is 
a serious question whether moral powers have 
not had their square root extracted. A man 
can go from New York to London now in six 
days. But when he arrives he is no better man 
than if it had taken him a month. He can 
talk across three thousand miles of ocean, but 
he has nothing more to say than when he sent 
his letter by a sailing-packet. All the inven- 
tions in the world will not change man's heart, 
or 

Lift him nearer God-like state. 

—II, 288. 

f eBmatp ftfteentlj 

If a king sent a golden cup full of cheer- The bless- 
ing cordial to a weary man, he might well ^^S of 
admire the twofold bounty of the royal gift, beauty 
The beauty of the vessel would make the 
draught more grateful and refreshing. And 
if the cup were inexhaustible, if it filled itself 
anew as often as it touched the lips, then the 
very shape and adornment of it would become 
significant and precious. It would be an in- 
estimable possession, a singing goblet, a treas- 
ure of life. — XV, 6. 

25 



f eBtuarp ^xxtttntfi 

The unseen Beyond our power of vision, poets say, 
world There is another world of forms unseen, 

Yet visible to purer eyes that ours. 
And if the crystal of our sight were clear, 
We should behold the mountain-slopes of 

cloud. 
The moving meadows of the untilled sea. 
The groves of twilight and the dales of dawn, 
And every wide and lonely field of air. 
More populous than cities, crowded close 
With living creatures of all shapes and hues. 
But if that sight were ours, the things that 

now 
Engage our eyes would seem but dull and dim 
Beside the splendors of our new-found world, 
And we should be amazed and overwhelmed 
Not knowing how to use the plenitude 
Of vision. — XIV, 46. 



First be- Yes, I know you are trying to be good, — 

lieve ; then fitfully, imperfectly, yet still trying. But there 
^n is something else that God would have you do 

first. He would have you believe that He 
wants you to be good, that He is willing to 
help you to be good, that He has sent His Son 
to make you good. — iv, 49, 

26 



f efiruarp dgljtecntfj 

Every man who will has it in his power to The salt of 
make his life count for something positive in t^^ earth 
the redemption of society. And this is what 
every man of moral principle is bound to do 
if he wants to belong to the salt of the earth. 
—XVIII, 73. 



5FeBruatp nineteentf) 

One of the best antidotes and cures of the The quiet 
Q.X2JLQ for publicity is a love of poetry and of W^ 
the things that belong to poetry — the beauty 
of nature, the sweetness and splendour of the 
common human affections, and those high 
thoughts and unselfish aspirations which are 
the enduring treasures of the soul. It is good 
to remember that the finest and most beautiful 
things that can ever come to us cannot pos- 
sibly be news to the public. It is good to 
find the zest of life in that part of it which 
does not need, and will not bear, to be adver- 
tised. It is good to talk with our friends, 
knowing that they will not report us ; and to 
p^ay with the children, knowing that no one 
is looking at us ; and to eat our meat with 
gladness and singleness of heart. — xxii, 82. 

27 



JFebruarp tlxientietti 

True There i.s a life that is worth living now, 

Americans as it was worth living in the former days, 
and that is the honest life, the useful life, 
the unselfish life, cleansed by devotion to 
an ideal. There is a battle that is worth 
fighting now, as it was worth fighting then, 
and that is the battle for justice and equal- 
ity. To make our city and our State free 
in fact as well as in name; to break the rings 
that strangle real liberty, and to keep them 
broken; to cleanse, so far as in our power 
lies, the fountains of our national life from 
political, commercial, and social corruption; 
to teach our sons and daughters, by precept 
and example, the honor of serving such a 
country as America — that is work worthy 
of the finest manhood and womanhood. 

— XXIV, 70. 



JFebruarp tb3entj>=firsft 

Might and If Might made Right, life were a wild- 
right beasts' cage; 

If Right made Might, this were the golden 

age; 
But now, until we win the long campaign. 
Right must gain Might to conquer and to 
reign. — xxxii. 

28 



5fe6tuarp ttoentp^^econti 

George Washington is the incarnation of Washing- 
the spirit of 1776, and the conclusive answer ion^s birth' 
to all calumniators of the Revolution. No "^y 
wild fanatic, no reckless socialist or anarchist, 
but a sober, sane, God-fearing, liberty-loving 
gentleman, who prized uprightness as the 
highest honour, and law as the bulwark of 
freedom, and peace as the greatest blessing, 
and was willing to live and die to defend 
them. He had his enemies who accused him 
of being an aristocrat, a conservative, a friend 
of the very England he was fighting, and who 
would have defamed and cast him down if 
they could. But the men of the Revolution 
held him up, because he was in their hearts, 
their hope and their ideal. — xxii, 107. 



jfeBruatp ttoentp^tljitti 

The true patriot is he who is as willing to The true 
sacrifice his time and strength and property patriot 
to remove political shame and reforrn political 
corruption, as he would be ready to answer 
the call to battle against a foreign foe. The 
true patriot is he who works and votes, with 
the same courage that he would show in 
arms, in order that the aspirations of a noble 
people may be embodied in the noblest rulers. 
— XXII, 108. 

29 



Rendez- 
vous 



Eternal 
companion- 
ship 



f eBruarp ttoetttp;:^foud:i) 

I count that friendship little worth 
Which has not many things untold, 
Great longings that no words can hold, 

And passion-secrets waiting birth. 

Along the slender wires of speech 

Some message from the heart is sent ; 
But who can tell the whole that's meant? 

Our dearest thoughts are out of reach. 

I have not seen thee, though mine eyes 
Hold now the image of thy face ; 
In vain, through form, I strive to trace 

The soul I love : that deeper lies, 

A thousand accidents control 

Our meeting here. Clasp hand in hand, 
And swear to meet me in that land 

Where friends hold converse soul to soul. 

— IX, 40. 

f efimarp ttdentp^ftftl) 

The assurance of immortality alone is not 
enough. For if we are told that we are to 
live forever and still left without the knowl- 
edge of a personal God, eternity stretches be- 
fore us like a boundless desert, a perpetual and 
desolate orphanage. It is a Divine compan- 
ionship that the spirit needs first of all and 
most deeply. — i, 165. 

30 



jf efiruarp ttoentp^^ijtrtft 

Just because love is so universal, it is often What kind 
to one of the other passions that we must of love F 
look for the distinctive hue, the individual 
quality of a life-story. Granted, if you will, 
that everybody must fall in love, or ought to 
fall in love. How will he do it ? And what 
will he do afterwards ? These are questions 
not without interest to one who watches the 
human drama as a friend. The answers de- 
pend upon those hidden and durable desires, 
affections, and impulses to which men and 
women give themselves up for rule and guid- 
ance. — XVI, viii. 

feBruarp ttoentp^^etoentlj 

There are two sorts of seeds sown in our Seeds of 
remembrance by what we call the hand of everlast- 
fortune, the fruits of which do not wither, ^H remem 
but grow sweeter forever and ever. The "^^^^^ 
first is the seed of innocent pleasures, re- 
ceived in gratitude and enjoyed with good 
companions, of which pleasures we never 
grow weary of thinking, because they have 
enriched our hearts. The second is the seed 
of pure and gentle sorrows, borne in submis- 
sion and with faithful love, and these also we 
never forget, but we come to cherish them 
with gladness instead of grief, because we see 
them changed into everlasting joys. — xvi, 

138. 

3' 



f efiruarp ttoentp^eigl)tl) 

'"' Except On the simplest soul that feels the wondei 

ye become as and the hidden glory of the universe, on the 

little chil' child to whom the stars are little windows 

dren \^^q heaven, or the poet to whom 

** the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears," 

God looks down with pleasure and approval. 
For in such a soul He sees the beginning of 
faith, which is able to pass behind the appear- 
ance to the reality, and make its possessor 
wise unto everlasting life. — iv, 41. 



jpefiruatp ttDentp^nintf) 

Nature is One side of our nature, no doubt, finds its 
alive satisfaction in the regular, the proper, the con- 
ventional. But there is another side of our 
nature, underneath, that takes delight in the 
strange, the free, the spontaneous. We like 
to discover what we call a law of Nature, and 
make our calculations about it, and harness 
the force which lies behind it for our own 
purposes. But we taste a different kind of 
joy when an event occurs which nobody has 
foreseen or counted upon. It seems like an 
evidence that there is something in the world 
which is alive and mysterious and untram- 
melled. XIII, 87. 

32 



And thou, my country, write it on thy heart. Sons of 
Thy sons are they who nobly take thy part ; America 
Who dedicates his manhood at thy shrine, 
Wherever born, is born a son of thine ; 
Foreign in name, but not in soul, they come 
To find in thee their long-desired home ; 
Lovers of liberty and haters of disorder. 
They shall be built in strength along thy border. 

— IX, 82. 



When we realize that every liberty, every 
privilege, every advantage, that comes to us as 
men and women has been bought with a price, 
— that the dark, subterranean lives of those 
who toil day and night in the bowels of the 
earth, the perils and hardships of those who 
sail to and fro upon the stormy seas, the be- 
numbing weariness of those who dig and ditch 
and handle dirt, the endless tending of looms 
and plying of needles and carrying of burdens 
— all this is done and endured and suffered by 
our fellow-men, though blindly, for our bene- 
fit, and accrues to our advantage, — when we 
begin to understand this, a nobler spirit en- 
ters into us, the only spirit that can keep our 
wealth, our freedom, our culture from being 
a curse to us forever, and sinking us into the 
ennui of a selfish hell. — iv, 113. 



'^Bought 
with a 
price ' * 



Faith Religion is something which a man cannot 

visible invent for himself, nor keep to himself. If 

it does not show in his conduct it does not 
exist in his heart. If he has just barely 
enough of it to save himself alone, it is 
doubtful whether he has even enough for that. 
Religion ought to bring out and intensify the 
flavor of all that is best in manhood, and 
make it fit, to use Wordsworth's noble 
phrase — 

" For human nature's daily food." 

Good citizens, honest workmen, cheerful 
comrades, true friends, gentle men — that is 
what the product of religion should be. — 
XVIII, 76. 



First-rate 
men 



ja^arcl) fouttft 

But what means of producing first-rate men 
has been discovered, except education ? I do 
not mean that kind of education which adorns 
a chosen few with the tinsel gewgaws of use- 
less accomplishments. I mean that nobler 
education which aims to draw out and disci- 
pline all that is best in manhood — to make 
the mind clear and firm by study, the body 
strong and obedient by exercise, the moral 
sense confident and inflexible by disclosing 
the eternal principles upon which it rests — 
XXII, 66. 

34 



!et^arcl) ftfti) 

Just to give up, and rest 

All on a Love secure, 
Out of a w^orld that's hard at the best, 

Looking to heaven as sure ; 
Ever to hope, through cloud and fear. 
In darkest night, that the dawn is near ; 
Just to wait at the Master's feet — 
Surely, now, the bitter is sweet. — ix, 63. 



Bitter- 

sweet 



The weather-prophet tells us of an ap- Wayward 
proaching storm. It comes according to the weather 
programme. We admire the accuracy of the 
prediction, and congratulate ourselves that we 
have such a good meteorological service. But 
when, perchance, a bright, crystalline piece of 
weather arrives instead of the foretold tempest, 
do we not feel a secret sense of pleasure which 
goes beyond our mere comfort in the sun- 
shine ? The whole affair is not as easy as a 
sum in simple addition, after all, — at least not 
with our present knowledge. It is a good 
joke on the Weather Bureau. "Aha, Old 
Probabilities ! " we say, " you don't know it 
all yet; there are still some chances to be 
taken! " — xiii, 87. 

35 



Two As for a dog, I am sure that his admiring 

friends and love for his master is never greater than when 
^ fi^^ they come in together from the hunt, wet and 

tired, and the man gathers a pile of wood in 
front of the tent, touches it with a tiny magic 
wand, and suddenly the clear, consoling flame 
springs up, saying cheerfully, " Here we are, 
at home in the forest ; come into the warmth ; 
rest, and eat, and sleep." When the weary, 
shivering dog sees this miracle, he knows that 
his master is a great man and a lord of things. 
XIII, 209. 



The lustre He had taken from a secret resting-place in 
of the pearl his bosom the pearl, the last of his jewels. As 
he looked at it, a mellower lustre, a soft and 
iridescent light, full of shifting gleams of azure 
and rose, trembled upon its surface. It seemed 
to have absorbed some reflection of the colours 
of the lost sapphire and ruby. So the profound, 
secret purpose of a noble life draws into itself 
the memories of past joy and past sorrow. All 
that has helped it, all that has hindered it, is 
transfused by a subtle magic into its very es- 
sence. It becomes more luminous and pre- 
cious the longer it is carried close to the 
warmth of the beating heart. — v, 58. 

36 



a^arcl^ nintfi 

" And perhaps it seems strange to you also, The bless- 
m'sieu', that a poor man should be so hungry ^ng of 
for children. It is not so everywhere : not children 
in America, I hear. But it is so with us in 
Canada. I know not a man so poor that he 
would not feel richer for a child. I know 
not a man so happy that he would not feel 
happier with a child in the house. It is the 
best thing that the good God gives to us ; 
something to work for; something to play 
with. It makes a man more gentle and more 
strong. And a woman, — her heart is like an 
empty nest, if she has not a child." — xvi, 63. 



How many of life's deepest tragedies are Lifers 
only that : no great transgression, no shock of deepest 
conflict, no sudden catastrophe with its an- tragedy 
swering thrill of courage and resistance : only 
a mistake made in the darkness, and under 
the guidance of what seemed a true and noble 
motive ; a failure to see the right path at the 
right moment, and a long wandering beyond 
it ; a word left unspoken until the ears that 
should have heard it are sealed, and the 
tongue that should have spoken it is dumb. — 
XVI, 207. 

37 



a^atcl) elebentft 

Opportu- This was the third trial, the ultimate pro- 

nity or bation, the final and irrevocable choice. 

temptation Was it his great opportunity, or his last 
temptation ? He could not tell. One thing 
only was clear in the darkness of his mind — 
it was inevitable. And does not the inevitable 
come from God ? 

One thing only was sure to his divided heart 
— to rescue this helpless girl would be a true 
deed of love. And is not love the light of the 
soul ? 

He took the pearl from his bosom. Never 
had it seemed so luminous, so radiant, so full 
of tender, living lustre. He laid it in the hand 
of the slave. 

" This is thy ransom, daughter ! It is the 
last of my treasures which I kept for the king." 
— V, 66. 

a^atcft ttoelftft 

Peace in a It is not until the soul has learned a better 
palace wisdom, learned that the human race is one, 

and that none can really rise by treading on 
his brother men, learned that true art is not 
the slave of luxury, but the servant of human- 
ity, learned that happiness is born, not of the 
lust to possess and enjoy, but of the desire to 
give and to bless, — then, and not until then, 
when she brings others with her, can the soul 
find true rest in her Palace. — ii, 45. 

38 



a^artl) tljirtecntl) 

The haste to get riches, the haste to climb The folly 
upon some pinnacle of worldly renown, the of haste 
haste to resolve mysteries — from these vari- 
ous kinds of haste are begotten no small part 
of the miseries and afflictions whereby the 
children of men are tormented : such as quar- 
rels and strifes among those who would over- 
reach one another in business ; envyings and 
jealousies among those who would outshine 
one another in rich apparel and costly equi- 
page ; bloody rebellions and cruel wars among 
those who would obtain power over their fel- 
low-men ; cloudy disputations and bitter con- 
troversies among those who would fain leave 
no room for modest ignorance and lowly faith 
among the secrets of religion. — xvi, 128. 



0^arcl) foutteentl) 

If we are wise and teachable, we walk with Walking 
Nature, and let her breathe into our hearts "^ith 
those lessons of humility, and patience, and Nature 
confidence, and good cheer, and tranquil 
resignation, and temperate joy, which are her 
" moral lore," — lessons which lead her schol- 
ars onward through a merry youth, and a 
strong maturity, and a serene old age, and 
prepare them by the pure companionship of 
this world for the enjoyment of a better 



XXI, 



29. 



39 



Contrasts 



a^arcft fiftemtJi 

If all the skies were sunshine, 

Our faces would be fain 
To feel once more upon them 

The cooling plash of rain. 

If all the world were music, 
Our hearts would often long 

For one sweet strain of silence, 
To break the endless song. 

If life were always merry. 
Our souls would seek relief, 

And rest from weary laughter 

In the quiet arms of grief. — ix, i6. 



The beggar I am no friend to the people who receive 
and the the bounties of Providence without visible 
sixpence gratitude. When the sixpence falls into your 
hat, you may laugh. When the messenger of 
an unexpected blessing takes you by the hand 
and lifts you up and bids you walk, you may 
leap and run and sing for joy, even as the 
lame man, whom St. Peter healed, skipped 
piously and rejoiced aloud as he passed through 
the Beautiful Gate of the Temple. There is 
no virtue in solemn indifference. Joy is just 
as much a duty as beneficence is. Thankful- 
ness is the other side of mercv. — xiii, 26. 

40 



a^artlfi ^ebmtemtft 



(C 



My son, it may be that the light of truth The ques- 
is in this sign that has appeared in the skies, tion and 
and then it will surely lead to the Prince and ^^^ ^^^-^^ 
the mighty brightness. Or it may be that it 
is only a shadow of the light, as Tigranes has 
said, and then he who follows it will have only 
a long pilgrimage and an empty search. But 
it is better to follow even the shadow of the 
best than to remain content with the worst. 
And those who would see wonderful things 
must often be ready to travel alone. I am 
too old for this journey, but my heart shall be 
a companion of the pilgrimage day and night, 
and I shall know the end of thy quest. Go 
in peace." — v, 19. 

a^atcfi eisl^teentft 

Moreover, it is not true that a man can What 
dispose of his money as he chooses. The pur- money can^ 
poses for which it can be used are strictly not buy 
bounded. There are many things that he 
cannot buy with it ; for example, health, long 
life, wisdom, a cheerful spirit, a clear con- 
science, peace of mind, a contented heart. 

You never see the stock called Happiness 
quoted on the exchange. How high would it 
range, think you, — a hundred shares of Hap- 
piness Preferred, guaranteed 7^, seller 30? 
— VIII, 20. 

41 



0^atc{) nineteentft 

One world *' The worlds in which we live are two 

The world ' I am ' and the world 'I do.' " 

The worlds in which we live at heart are one, 
The world " I am," the fruit of " I have 

done " ; 
And underneath these worlds of flower and 

fruit. 
The world " I love '* — the only living root. 

— XX, 85. 



a^arcft ttDentietl^ 

The Snow- One of them is adorned with white pearls 
berry sprinkled lightly over its robe of green. This 

is Snowberry, and if you eat of it, you will 
grow wise in the wisdom of flowers. You 
will know where to find the yellow violet, and 
the wake-robin, and the pink lady-slipper, 
and the scarlet sage, and the fringed gentian. 
You will understand how the buds trust 
themselves to the spring in their unfolding, 
and how the blossoms trust themselves to the 
winter in their withering, and how the busy 
hands of Nature are ever weaving the beauti- 
ful garment of life out of the strands of 
death, and nothing is lost that yields itself to 
her quiet handling. — xvii, 130. 

42 



The first day of spring is one thing, and The year 
the first spring day is another. The differ- t^^^^^ ^he 
ence between them is sometimes as great as a corner 
month. 

The first day of spring is due to arrive, if 
the calendar does not break down, about the 
twenty-first of March, when the earth turns 
the corner of Sun Alley and starts for Summer 
Street. But the first spring day is not on the 
time-table at all. It comes when it is ready, 
and in the latitude of New York this is usual- 
ly not till after All Fools' Day. — xiii, 93. 

A river is the most human and companion- A river as 
able of all inanimate things. It has a life, a a friend 
character, a voice of its own, and is as full of 
good fellowship as a sugar-maple is of sap. 
It can talk in various tones, loud or low, and 
of many subjects, grave and gay. Under 
favorable circumstances it will even make a 
shift to sing, not in a fashion that can be re- 
duced to notes and set down in black and 
white on a sheet of paper, but in a vague, re- 
freshing manner, and to a wandering air that 
goes 

** Over the hills and far away." 

For real company and friendship, there is 
nothing outside of the animal kingdom that is 
comparable to a river. — vi, 9. 



43 



9@arcf) ttoentj>=ti)irb 

Gates of The mystery of the heart of mankind, 

Zion the spiritual airs that breathe through it, 

the desires and aspirations that impel men 
in their journeyings, the common hopes 
that bind them together in companies, the 
fears and hatreds that array them in warring 
hosts, — there is no place in the world to- 
day where you can feel all this so deeply, 
so inevitably, so overwhelmingly, as at the 
Gates of Zion. — xxvi, 51. 

Q^arci) tttjentp=fourti) 

America O Lord our God, Thy mighty hand 

befriend Hath made our country free; 

From all her broad and happy land 

May praise arise to Thee. 

Fulfill the promise of her youth. 

Her liberty defend; 

By law and order, love and truth, 

America befriend ! 

Thro* all the waiting land proclaim 

Thy gospel of good-will; 

And may the music of Thy name 

In every bosom thrill. 

O'er hill and vale, from sea to sea. 

Thy holy reign extend; 

By faith and hope and charity, 

America befriend ! — xxxi, 42. 

44 



Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul, Tbe way 
May keep the path, but will not reach the goal; 
While he who walks in love may wander far, 
But God will bring him where the Blessed are. 

— IX, 64. 



Wondrous power of music ! How often 7'be key of 
has it brought peace, and help, and strength the heart 
to weary and downcast pilgrims ! It pene- 
trates the bosom and unlocks the doors of 
spcret, dumb, self-consuming anguish, so that 
the sorrow flowing out may leave the soul un- 
burdened and released. It touches the chords 
of memory, and the cadence of old songs 
brings back the happy scenes of the past. In 
the rude mining camp, cut off by the snows 
of winter, in the narrow cabin of the ship 
ice-bound in Arctic seas, in the bare, dark 
rooms of Libby prison where the captive 
soldiers are trying to beguile the heavy time 
in company, tears steal down the rough cheeks, 
and voices quaver with half-pain, half-pleas- 
ure, when some one strikes up the familiar 
notes of " Home, Sweet Home." — i, 163. 

45 



Best 

hiowUy best 
loved 



Every river that flovi^s is good, and has 
something worthy to be loved. But those 
that we love most are always the ones that we 
have known best, — the stream that ran before 
our father's door, the current on which we 
ventured our first boat or cast our first fly, the 
brook on whose banks we first picked the 
twinflower of young love. However far we 
may travel, we come back to Naaman's 
state of mind : "Are not Abana and Pharpar, 
rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters 
of Israel? " — vi, 15. 



The peace As living beings we are part of a universe 

of being in of life ; as intelligent beings we are in connec- 
place tion with a great circle of conscious intelli- 

gences ; as spiritual beings we have our place 
in a moral world controlled and governed by 
the supreme Spirit. In each of these spheres 
there is a law, a duty, an obligation, a respon- 
sibility, for us. And our felicity lies in the 
discovery and acknowledgment of those ties 
which fit us and bind us to take our place, to 
play our part, to do our work, to ive our life, 
where we belong. — iv, 104. 

46 



Trees seem to come closer to our life. A tree with 
They are often rooted in our richest feelings, deep roots 
and our sweetest memories, like birds, build 
nests in their branches. I remember, the last 
time that I saw James Russell Lowell, (only a 
few weeks before his musical voice was hushed,) 
he walked out with me into the quiet garden 
at Elmwood to say good-by. There was a 
great horse-chestnut tree beside the house, 
towering above the gable, and covered with 
blossoms from base to summit, — a pyramid of 
green supporting a thousand smaller pyramids 
of white. The poet looked up at it with his 
gray, pain-furrowed face, and laid his trem- 
bling hand upon the trunk. " I planted the 
nut," said he, " from which this tree grew. 
And my father was with me and showed me 
how to plant it." — vi, lo. 



a^arcl) tl)ittietf) 

An idea arrives without effort ; a form can Truth in 
only be wrought out by patient labour. If your art 
story is worth telling, you ought to love it 
enough to be willing to work over it until it 
is true, — true not only to the ideal, but true 
also to the real. The light is a gift ; but the 
local colour can only be seen by one who looks 
for it long and steadily. — v, xii. 

47 



One secret Forget, forget, — 

Thou art a child and knowest 
So little of thy life ! But music tells 
One secret of the world thro' which thou 
goest 
To work with morning song, to rest with 
evening bells : 
Life is in tune with harmony so deep 

That when the notes are lowest 
Thou still canst lay thee down in peace 
and sleep, 
For God will not forget. — xx, 9. 



Love'' s first Surely, if love is supreme, it does not need 
duty to wait for anything else to lend it worth and 

dignity. The very sweetness and power of 
it lie in the confession of one life as depend- 
ent upon another for its fulfilment. It is 
made strong in its very weakness. It is the 
only thing, after all, that can break the prison 
bars and set the heart free from itself. The 
pride that hinders it, enslaves it. Love's first 
duty is to be true to itself, in word and deed. 
Then, having spoken truth and acted verity, 
it may call on honour to keep it piire and 
steadfast. — xvi, 209. 

48 



5tprii ^econb 

These are the things I prize The best 

And hold of dearest worth : things 

Light of the sapphire skies, 
Peace of the silent hills, 
Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass, 
Music of birds, murmur of little rills, 
Shadow of clouds that swiftly pass, 
And, after showers. 
The smell of flowers 
And of the good brown earth, — 
And best of all, along the way, friendship and 
mirth. 

—XX, 44. 

Sfipttl tl^itti 

If by chance you pluck the leaves of Wood- 
Wood-Magic and eat them, you will not Magic 
know what you have done, but the enchant- 
ment of the tree-land will enter your heart 
and the charm of the wildwood will flow 
through your veins. . . . 

At tables spread with dainty fare you will 
be hungry for the joy of the hunt, and for 
the angler's sylvan feast. In proud cities you 
will weary for the sight of a mountain trail ; 
in great cathedrals you will think of the long, 
arching aisles of the woodland ; and in the 
noisy solitude of crowded streets you will 
hone after the friendly forest. — xvii, 132. 

49 



3llpril fourtl^ 

The first "My father," she answered, "I desire to 

duty do the will of God. But how shall I know 

it ? Is it not His first command that we 
should love and serve Him faithfully in the 
duty which He has given us ? He gave me 
this light to keep. My father kept it. He 
is dead. If I am unfaithful what will he say 
to me ? Besides, the supply-boat is coming 
soon — I have thought of this — when it comes 
it will bring food. But if the hght is out, 
the boat may be lost. That would be the 
punishment for my sin. No, mon pcre^ we 
must trust God. He will keep the people. 
I will keep the light." — xvi, 286. 

311pril ttftl) 

The books I want the books that help me out of the 

that I vacancy and despair of a frivolous mind, out 

want of the tangle and confusion of a society that 

is buried in bric-a-brac^ out of the meanness 
of unfeeling mockery and the heaviness of 
incessant mirth, into a loftier and serener 
region, where, through the clear air of serious 
thoughts, I can learn to look soberly and 
bravely upon the mingled misery and splen- 
dour of human existence, and then go down 
with a cheerful courage to play a man's part 
in the life which Christ has forever ennobled 
by his divine presence.— xxii, 171. 

50 



Self is the only prison that can ever bind the The prison 

soul ; and the 

Love is the only angel v^^ho can bid the gates angel 

unroll : 
And w^hen he comes to call thee, arise and 

follow fast ; 
His way may lie through darkness, but it 

leads to light at last. — ix, 48. 



Is there any reason why our lives should be 
feeble and stagnant and worthless ? Is there 
any reason why we should not overcome 
temptation and endure trial, and work the 
works of God in the world, and come at last 
to the height of His abode in heaven ? Only 
one, — that we do not know Him who is able 
to do exceeding abundantly above all that we 
ask or think, according to the power that 
worketh in us. Lay hold on Him by faith 
and all things are possible. Let us clasp the 
hand of Christ and climb ; and as we climb 
He will lift us out of sin, out of selfishness, 
out of weakness, out of death, into holiness, 
into love, into strength, into life, and we shall 
know the power of His resurrection. — iv, 96. 

51 



Climby and 
be lifted 



Upnl fiftfitii 

./,V«i^4lwV This n\.iv t\o( br ihr \cMv ttw tli.it thing 
y«l^ its sh.ulinv m or the tout, Init no vKnil>( it 

IS ii SvM\ v>r .1 s\r.u\Jsot\ oi th.it titH\ .mvl the 
MOorns th.it still (.ill (toni it ni.i\ he the 
ScVvls v>t v^thor o.iks to slu-ltcr tuture gXMi- 
crativMis oi jMlgrinis; ;u\v.l so throiii\hout 
the wiM-Kl, the aneient eoven.int ot tViend- 
ship is unhrv^ken, aiul man remains a i;rate- 
tul lo\ er ot the bu\, knul trees. \\\ i, kv\ 



Hpnl ninth 

[.uptH No other tune v^t the n e.ir, im\ oiir northern 

tinJ Atlantie vSeaKnu\l, is so alluring, so delicate 

Unrtl iiJ^d svibtlo in its eharnu as that w hieh folKnvs 

the fading ot' the bright blue lupins in the 
meadows and along the b.mks ot the open 
Streams, and preeevles the rosy tUish ot 
myriavl laurels in tuU bloom on the h.ilt 
wovHJed hillsides, auvi in the torest glades, 
and under the lofty shadow of the groves 
of yellow pine. Then, for a little while, the 
spring delays tv> Ixnirgcvn into summer: the 
wcH\ilai\vi maivl liuijers at the i^arden i;ate 
of womanhvwi, rcluetant to enter and leave 
behind the wiUl sweeti\ess of freedom and 
uncertainty. — xw ,141. 

Si 



Dear tranquil Habit, with her 'silent hand'-j, Tranquil 
Doth heal our deepest w(mn(h from day kahn 

t/} day 
With c/>o\\nu,y v/ything oil, and firmly lay 

Around tfie broken 1/eart her gentle hand** 

f fer nurnm'fi is as calm af> Saturt\ cart; 
She di'^'th not wcej> with us; yet none the 

lesj* 
f fer quiet fingers weave for^ttfu\ntv% — 
We fall aslce]:> in peace 7/fj';n '>he w there, 

~ y.y.vui. I'-ji. 

The heart of the people at large i» still Ideal 
old-fa'-i)Jonryl in its adherence tr> the idea /r/?>// 
that f'.vcry x(\'^:(\ is responsible to a higher 
mora) and spiritual ]fxjv/er, — that duty is 
more than plea^'vant, — that life cannot be 
tran-Jate/l in terms of the five senses^ and 
that the attempt to dr> so lowers and de- 
^;'- '. . ': man v/ho m/akes It, — that relig- 
ion aior.c oan give an a^'iequat^ interpre- 
tation of life, and that morality alr.»ne can 
mjake it worthy of respect and arirni ration. 
This is the characterigtic American way of 
looking at the c/^mplicar^^d and inf^eresting 
business of living v/nioh v/e men and v/omen 
have upon our hands. — xxvu, 264. 

55 



The puri- This Is what the apostle means by " the 

fying hope power of an endless life," The passion of 
immortality is the thing that immortalizes our 
being. To be in love with heaven is the sur- 
est way to be fitted for it. Desire is the mag- 
netic force of character. Character is the 
compass of life. '' He that hath this hope in 
him purifieth himself." — viii, 36. 



^pril tl)irteentl) 

The mark Read the roll of those In every age whom 

of the King the world has acknowledged as the best Chris- 
tians, kings and warriors and philosophers, 
martyrs and heroes and labourers in every no- 
ble cause, the purest and the highest of man- 
kind, and you will see that the test by which 
they are judged, the mark by which they are 
recognized, is likeness and loyalty to the per- 
sonal Christ. Then turn to the work which 
the Church is doing to-day in the lowest and 
darkest fields of human life, among the sub- 
merged classes of our great cities, among the 
sunken races of heathendom, and you cannot 
deny that the force of that work to enlighten 
and uplift, still depends upon the simplicity and 
reality with which it reveals the person of 
Jesus to the hearts of men. — vii, 66. 

54 



Even the broken and tumultuous noise 
That rises from great cities, where the heart 
Of human toil is beating heavily 
With ceaseless murmurs of the labouring pulse, 
Is not a discord ; for it speaks to life 
Of life unfeigned, and full of hopes and fears. 
And touched through all the trouble of its notes 
With something real and therefore glorious. 

— XIV, 40. 



The music 
in the 
tumult 



Sllpril fifteenth 

" Yes," she answered, lifting her eyes to Gratitude 
his face ; " I, too, have felt it, Hermas, this 
burden, this need, this unsatisfied longing. I 
think I know what it means. It is gratitude 
— the language of the heart, the music of 
happiness. There is no perfect joy without 
gratitude. But we have never learned it, and 
the want of it troubles us. It is like being 
dumb with a heart full of love. We must 
find the word for it, and say it together. Then 
we shall be perfectly joined in perfect joy." — = 



XI, 



47. 



55 



Power No man in the world to-day has such power 

as he who can make his fellow-men feel that 
Christ is a reality .- 



-IV, 



244. 



3lpril ^cbcntcctitl) 

Prayers Then the moon slips up into the sky from 

without behind the eastern hills, and the fisherman be- 
words gins to think of home, and of the foolish, fond 

old rhymes about those whom the moon sees 
far away, and the stars that have the power 
to fulfil wishes — as if the celestial bodies knew 
or cared anything about our small nerve-thrills 
which we call affection and desires. But if 
there were Some One above the moon and 
stars who did know and care, Some One 
who could see the places and the people that 
you and I would give so much to see. Some 
One who could do for them all of kindness that 
you and I fain would do. Some One able to 
keep our beloved in perfect peace and watch 
over the little children sleeping in their beds 
beyond the sea — what then ? Why, then, in 
the evening hour, one might have thoughts of 
home that would go across the ocean by way 
of heaven, and be better than dreams, almost 
as good as prayers. — vi, 243. 

56 



%fnl eig{)teentf^ 

Companionship is the one thing in the The 
world which is absolutely essential to happi- friendship 
ness. The human heart needs fellowship v ^^"' 
more than anything else, fellowship which is 
elevated and enduring, stronger and purer 
than itself, and centered in that which death 
cannot change. All its springs are in God. 
Without Him life is a failure and all beyond 
is a blank. — xviii, 144. 



Stpril ninetecntfi 

" Trust me. Scholar, it is the part of wis- Nature^ s 
dom to spend little of your time upon the invitation 
things that vex and anger you, and much of 
your time upon the things that bring you 
quietness and confidence and good cheer. A 
friend made is better than an enemy punished. 
There is more of God in the peaceable beauty 
of this little wood-violet than in all the angry 
disputations of the sects. We are nearer 
heaven when we listen to the birds than when 
we quarrel with our fellow-men. I am sure 
that none can enter into the spirit of Christ, 
his evangel, save those who willingly follow 
his invitation when he says, ' Come ye your- 
selves apart into a lonely place^ and rest a 
whiUy — XVI, 136. 

57 



%pnl ttoentietg 
I 

Wi;2gs of a At sunset, when the rosy light was dying 
dove Far down the pathway of the west, 

I saw a lonely dove in silence flying. 
To be at rest. 

Pilgrim of air, I cried, could I but borrow 

Thy wandering wings, thy freedom blest, 
Pd fly away from every careful sorrow, 
And find my rest. 

II 

But when the dusk a filmy veil was weaving, 

Back came the dove to seek her nest 
Deep in the forest where her mate was griev- 
ing,— 

There was true rest. 

Peace, heart of mine ! no longer sigh to wan- 
der ; 
Lose not thy life in fruitless quest. 
There are no happy islands over yonder; 
Come home and rest. — ix, 3. 

5llpnl ttoentp:^fir^t 

Concord The cottage, no less than the palace, en- 

joys the blessings of civil concord and social 
harmony. Human life, in every sphere, be- 
comes easier and happier and more fruitful, as 
men recognize the ties which bind them to 
each other, and learn to dwell together in 
mutual affection and helpfulness. — i, 245. 

58 



Oh, wot's the use o' **red gods," an' "Pan," Spring- 
an' all that stuff? time 

The natcheral facts o' Springtime is won- 
derful enuff ! 

An' if there's Someone made 'em, I guess 
He understood, 

To be alive in Springtime would make a 
man feel good. — xxxi, 59. 



SIpril thjentptfjirb 

The Boy had learned from his mother — "My 
that God who made and ruled all things Father^^ 
was his Father. It was the name she had 
taught him to use in his prayers. Not in 
the great payers he learned from the book 
— the name there was Adonai, the Lord, 
the Almighty. But in the little prayers 
that he said by himself it was "my Father !'* 
It made the Boy feel strangely happy and 
strong to say that. The whole world seemed 
to breathe and glow around him with an 
invisible presence. For such a Father, for 
the sake of His love and favor, the Boy 
felt he could do anything. — xxx, 29. 

59 



5llpril ttDentp^fourtlj 

The larger By the breadth of the blue that shines in 
vision silence o'er me, 

By the length of the mountain-lines that 
stretch before me, 

By the height of the cloud that sails, with 
rest in motion, 

Over the plains and the vales to the measure- 
less ocean, 

(Oh, how the sight of the things that are 
great enlarges the eyes !) 

Lead me out of the narrow life, to the peace 
of the hills and the skies. — xx, 39. 



Sllprxl ttuentp^ftftl) 

Good blood " The old Jacques Cartier, the father of 
all, when he went home to France, I have 
heard that the King made him a lord and 
gave him a castle. Why not ? He was a 
capable man, a brave man ; he could sail a 
big ship, he could run the rapids of the great 
river in his canoe. He could hunt the bear, 
the lynx, the carcajou. I suppose all these 
men, — marquises and counts and barons, — I 
suppose they all lived hard, and slept on the 
ground, and used the axe and the paddle when 
they came to the woods. It is not the fine 
coat that makes the noble. It is the good 
blood, the adventure, the brave heart." — xvi, 
222. 

60 



What does fatherhood mean ? I speak Heavenly 
out the experience of an earthly fatherhood fatherhood 
that has blessed my whole life. It means 
tenderness, forbearance, watchfulness, firm- 
ness to counsel and rebuke, pity for my 
worst, sympathy for my best, a golden friend- 
ship, an undying love. If earthly fatherhood 
means all that, how much more does heavenly 
fatherhood mean! — xviii, lo. 

aipril ttDentp^^ebenti^ 

Simplicity, in truth, is less dependent upon The simple 
external things than we imagine. It can live life 
in broadcloth or homespun ; it can eat white 
bread or black. It is not outward, but in- 
ward. A certain openness of mind to learn 
the daily lessons of the school of life ; a cer- 
tain willingness of heart to give and to re- 
ceive that extra service, that gift beyond the 
strict measure of debt which makes friend- 
ship possible ; a certain clearness of spirit to 
perceive the best in things and people, to love 
it without fear and to cleave to it without 
mistrust; a peaceable sureness of affection 
and taste; a gentle straightforwardness of 
action ; a kind sincerity of speech, — these are 
the marks of the simple life, which cometh 

not with observation, for it is within you. 

XXI, 36. 

61 



Common When a man can willingly forego even the 

worship outward services of religion, and stay away 

from the house of God, and let the seasons 
of devotion and communion pass by without 
a thought of regret, his faith and love must 
be at a low ebb, if indeed they have not alto= 
gether dried up and blown away. A living 
plant seeks water : a living soul longs for the 
refreshment of the sanctuary. — i, 107. 



5ilprii ttoentp^^nintlf) 

Education Surely it would be a good thing. If, In our 

schools, it could be recognized that a child 
would far better grow up thinking that the earth 
is flat, than to remain Ignorant of God and 
moral law and filial duty. And it would be 
a still better thing, if, in all our homes, there 
could be a sincere revival of household piety, 
— piety In the old Roman sense, which means 
the affectionate reverence of children for pa- 
rents, — piety In the new Christian sense which 
means the consecration to the heart of God, — 
for this would rekindle the flame of devotion 
upon many a neglected altar, and shed a mild 
and gracious light through many a gloomy 
home, making it the brightest, cheerfulest, 
holiest place on earth. — i, 230. 

62 



But it is not only to the real life of birds Old clothes 
and flowers that the little rivers introduce you. and liberty 
They lead you often into familiarity with hu- 
man nature in undress, rejoicing in the liberty 
of old clothes, or of none at all. People do 
not mince along the banks of streams in pat- 
ent-leather shoes or crepitating silks. Cor- 
duroy and homespun and flannel are the stuffs 
that suit this region ; and the frequenters of 
these paths go their natural gaits, in calf-skin 
or rubber boots, or bare-footed. The girdle 
of conventionality is laid aside, and the skirts 
rise with the spirits. — vi, 25. 



It's little I can tell The echo 

About the birds in books ; in the heart 

And yet I know them well. 

By their music and their looks : 
When May comes down the lane. 
Her airy lovers throng 
To welcome her with song, 
And follow in her train : 
Each minstrel weaves his part 
In that wild-flowery strain, 
And I know them all again 
By their echo in my heart. 

—XIV, 73. 

63 



The oldest There is a secret pleasure in finding these 
game delicate flowers in the rough heart of the wil- 

derness. It is like discovering the veins of 
poetry in the character of a guide or a lum- 
berman. And to be able to call the plants by 
name makes them a hundredfold more sweet 
and intimate. Naming things is one of the 
oldest and simplest of human pastimes. Chil- 
dren play at it with their dolls and toy ani- 
mals. In fact, it was the first game ever 
played on earth, for the Creator who planted 
the garden eastward in Eden knew well what 
would please the childish heart of man, when 
He brought all the new-made creatures to 
Adam, " to see what he would call them." — 
VI, 260. 



When all God is present with His own people in a 

things sense which belongs to them alone. He is 

ipeak present by the revelations of His glory. They 

have learned to see His face and hear His 
voice in the world, so that the stars, which to 
other men are silent, speak of His wisdom to 
every faithful heart, and the sea tells of His 
power, and the fruits and flowers of earth 
seem to those who love Him as if they were 
offered by His bountiful hands. — i, 139. 

64 



ap fourtf) 

These are the gifts I ask Gifts of 

Of thee, Spirit serene: the Spirit 

Strength for the daily task. 
Courage to face the road. 
Good cheer to help me bear the traveller's 

load, 
And, for the hours of rest that come be- 
tween, 
An inward joy in all things heard and seen» 

XXVIII, 60. 



The mountains that inclose the vale Doors of 

With walls of granite, steep and high, daring 

Invite the fearless foot to scale 
Their stairway toward the sky. 

The restless, deep, dividing sea 

That flows and foams from shore to shore, 

Calls to its sunburned chivalry, 
''Push out, set sail, explore!" 

The bars of life at which we fret, 

That seem to prison and control, 
Are but the doors of daring, set 

Ajar before the soul. 

Say not, ''Too poor," but freely give; 

Sigh not, "Too weak," but boldly try; 
You never can begin to live 

Until you dare to die. — xxviii, 260. 

65 



The cause Often does It happen that a man who is 

and the engaged in the noblest work needs to be re- 
^^^ minded that the cause for which he is labour- 

ing is holier than himself. — i, 60. 



The pathos How the heart expands at such a view ! 

of beauty Nine miles of shining water lay stretched be- 
fore us, opening through the mountains that 
guarded it on both sides with lofty walls of 
green and gray, ridge over ridge, point beyond 
point, until the vista ended in 

" Yon orange sunset waning slow." 

At a moment like this one feels a sense of 
exultation. It is a new discovery of the joy 
of living. And yet, my friend and I con- 
fessed to each other there was a tinge of sad- 
ness, an inexplicable regret mingled with our 
joy. Was it the thought of how few human 
eyes had ever seen that lovely vision ? Was 
it the dim foreboding that we might never see 
it again ? Who can explain the secret pathos 
of Nature's loveliness ? It is a touch of mel- 
ancholy inherited from our mother Eve. It is 
an unconscious memory of the lost Paradise. 
It is the sense that even if we should find 
another Eden, we would not be fit to enjoy it 
perfectly, nor stay in it forever. — vi, 210. 



The evil voices in the $ouls of men. Optimism 

Voices of rage and cruelty and fear 

Have not dismayed me ; for I have perceived 

The voices of the good, the kind, the true 

Are more in number and excel in strength. 

There is more love than hate, more hope than 

fear, 
In the mixed murmur of the human heart. 

— XIV, 50. 



I savi^ him again at the foot of the pyra- A riddle 
mids, which lifted their sharp points into the and a gues^ 
intense saffron glow of the sunset sky, change- 
Jess monuments of the perishable glory and 
the imperishable hope of man. He looked up 
into the vast countenance of the crouching 
Sphinx and vainly tried to read the meaning 
of the calm eyes and smiling mouth. Was 
it, indeed, the mockery of all effort and all 
aspiration, as Tigranes had said — the cruel 
jest of a riddle that has no ansvi^er, a search 
that never can succeed ? Or w^as there a 
touch of pity and encouragement in that 
inscrutable smile — a promise that even the 
defeated should attain a victory, and the dis- 
appointed should discover a prize, and the 
ignorant should be made wise, and the blind 
should see, and the wandering should come 
into the haven at last ? — v, 54. 

67 



Wild For my own part, I approve of garden flow- 

fiotuers ers because they are so orderly and so certain ; 

but wild flowers I love, just because there is 
so much chance about them. Nature is all 
in favor of certainty in great laws and of un- 
certainty in small events. You cannot ap- 
point the day and the place for her flower- 
shows. If you happen to drop in at the right 
moment she will give you a free admission. 
But even then it seems as if the table of 
beauty had been spread for the joy of a higher 
visitor, and in obedience to secret orders which 
you have not heard. — xiii, 83. 



The part- 
song of the 
seasons 



a^ap elebentfj 

If men would only hear it ! Oh that the 
deaf ear and the dull heart might be touched 
and opened to the beautiful speech of the 
seasons, so that plenty might draw all souls 
to gratitude, and beauty move all spirits to 
worship, and every fair landscape, and every 
overflowing harvest, and every touch of love- 
liness and grace upon the face of the world, 
might lift all souls that Hve and feel from 
Nature up to Nature's God ! This is what He 
longs for. This is what He means when He 
tells us, in His impartial sunshine and rain, 
that He is the Father of all mankind. — iv, 201, 

68 



a?ap ttoclftf) 

We are often standing upon the hill of sighs, The hill of 
and looking back to the pleasant places which sighs 
our feet shall tread no more, recalling the 
opportunities which have departed, remember- 
ing the sweet Sabbaths in the home of child- 
hood, the mornings when we went with the 
multitude of friends to the house of God, the 
quiet evenings filled with the voice of sacred 
song, the days when it seemed easy and nat- 
ural to be good, when gracious currents of 
holy influence were bearing us onward, almost 
without effort, towards a better life. — i, 167. 

The Bible, if indeed it be the true text-book The Bible 
of religion, must contain the answer to man's 
cry as a sinner to God as a Saviour. It must 
disclose to man a remedy for the pain, a con- 
solation for the shame, a rescue from the fear, 
and a confirmation of the secret hope, that he 
dimly and confusedly feels in the sense of sin. 
A Bible with no message of deliverance from 
sin would be a useless luxury in a sinful 
world. It would lack that quality of perfect 
fitness to human need which is one of the 
most luminous evidences of a divine word. 
The presence of a clear message of salvation 
is an essential element in the proof of inspi- 
ration. — XII, 51. 

69 



a^ap fourteentf) 

An angler'' s When tulips bloom in Union Square, 
wish And timid breaths of vernal air 

Go wandering down the dusty town, 
Like children lost in Vanity Fair ; 

When every long, unlovely row 
Of westward houses stands aglow. 

And leads the eyes toward sunset skies 
Beyond the hills where green trees grow ; 

Then weary seems the street parade, 
And weary books, and weary trade: 
I'm only wishing to go a-fishing; 
For this the month of May was made. 

— IX, 6 



Mutual In our own tongue the word to bless is de- 

blessing rived from the same root as blithe and bliss. 

It conveys the thought of peace and happi- 
ness. When we bless God we express the 
sincere desire that He, as the source of ail 
light and life, as the maker and ruler of the 
Universe, may ever be filled with infinite calm 
and joy ; that His glory may shine every- 
where, and that all His works may praise 
Him in all places of His dominion. When 
God blesses us, He promises to satisfy our 
souls and make us happy. — i, 250. 

70 



09ap ^ixtttnth 

Do you remember that fair little wood of ^ ivood- 
silver birches on the West Branch of the ^^^'^ ^^^' 
Neversink, somewhat below the place where ^^^ 
the Biscuit Brook runs in ? There is a 
mossy terrace raised a couple of feet above 
the water of a long, still pool ; and a very 
pleasant spot for a friendship-fire on the 
shingly beach below you ; and a plenty of 
painted trilliums and yellow violets and white 
foam-flowers to adorn your woodland ban- 
quet, if it be spread in the month of May, 
when Mistress Nature is given over to em- 
broidery. XVI, 121. 



The real location of a city house depends The magic 
upon the pictures which hang upon its walls, of pictures 
They are its neighbourhood and its outlook. 
They confer upon it that touch of life and 
character, that power to beget love and bind 
friendship, which a country house receives 
from its surrounding landscape, the garden 
that embraces it, the stream that runs near it, 
and the shaded paths that lead to and from its 
door. 

By this magic of pictures my narrow, up- 
right slice of living-space in one of the brown- 
stone strata on the eastward slope of Man- 
hattan Island is transferred to an open and 
agreeable site. — xvi, 177. 

71 



Qpap eisfjteentJ) 

The way Who seeks for heaven alone to save his 

soul, 
May keep the path, but will not reach the 

goal; 
While he who walks in love may wander 

far. 
But God will bring him where the Blessed 

are. — xxviii, 358. 

Qiap nineteentti 

The He that turneth from the road to rescue 

helpers another, 

Turneth toward his goal: 

He shall arrive in time by the foot-path 
of mercy, 

God will be his guide. 

He that speaketh comfortable words to 

mourners, 
Healeth his own hurt: 
In the time of grief they will come to his 

remembrance, 
God will use them for balm. 

He that careth for a wounded brother, 
Watcheth not alone: 

There are three in the darkness together, 
And the third is the Lord. 

Blessed is the way of the helpers, 

The companions of the Christ. — xxviii, 377. 

72 



Was it long ago, or was it but yesterday, The force 
that we prayed for strength to perform a cer- that fails 
tain duty, to bear a certain burden, to over- not 
come a certain temptation, and received it ? 
Do we dream that the Divine force was ex- 
hausted in answering that one prayer? No 
more than the great river is exhausted by 
turning the wheels of one mill. Put it to the 
proof again with to-day's duty, to-day's bur- 
den, to-day's temptation. Thrust yourself fur- 
ther and deeper into the stream of God's 
power, and feel it again, as you have felt it 
before, able to do exceeding abundantly. Re- 
member and trust.— IV, 88. 



seed 



sr^ap ttDmtp^ftt^t 

Where you find a flower, you know there The fiower 
must have been a seed. Where you find a and the 
river, you know there must be a spring. 
Where you see a flame, you know there must 
be a fire. Where you find a man beloved 
and blessed of God, you know there must be 
faith. Whether it is recorded or not, whether 
you can see it or not, it must be there, germ 
of his virtue, fountain-head of his goodness, 
living source of warmth and light; for with- 
out faith it is impossible to please God.-— 
IV, 31, 

12> 



The work We long to leave something behind us 

that en- which shall last, some influence of good which 
dures shall be transmitted through our children, some 

impress of character or action which shall en- 
dure and perpetuate Itself. There Is only one 
way in which we can do this, only one way 
in which our lives can receive any lasting 
beauty and dignity ; and that Is by being taken 
up into the great plan of God. Then the frag- 
ments of broken glass glow with an immortal 
meaning in the design of His grand mosaic. 
Then our work is established, because it be- 
comes part of His work. — i, 23. 



a?ap ttoetttp;;t{)trli 

spiritual The vision of spiritual power, even as we 

pwer see it in the imperfect manifestations of hu- 

man life, is ennobling and uplifting. The 
rush of courage along the perilous path of 
duty Is finer than the foaming leap of the tor- 
rent from the crag. Integrity resisting temp- 
tation overtops the mountains in grandeur. 
Love, giving and blessing without stint, has a 
beauty and a potency of which the sunlight is 
but a faint and feeble Image. When we see 
these things they thrill us with joy ; they en- 
large and enrich our souls. — iv, 80, 

74 



Little rivers seem to have the indefinable A nameless 
quality that belongs to certain people in the charm 
v^orld, — the power of drawing attention with- 
out courting it, the faculty of exciting interest 
by their very presence and way of doing things. 
—VI, 19. 



a^ap ttoentp^fiftf) 

The boy enjoyed this kind of father at the Fatherhood 
time, and later he came to understand, with 
a grateful heart, that there is no richer inheri- 
tance in all the treasury of unearned blessings. 
For, after all, the love, the patience, the kindly 
wisdom of a grown man who can enter into 
the perplexities and turbulent impulses of a 
boy's heart, and give him cheerful companion- 
ship, and lead him on by free and joyful ways 
to know and choose the things that are pure 
and lovely and of good report, make as fair an 
image as we can find of that loving, patient 
Wisdom which must be above us all if any 
good is to come out of our childish race. — 
VI, 38. 

7S 



9@aj> ttdentj>=gixtii 

God's God*s altar is in every loyal heart, 

altar And every flame of love that kindles there 

Ascends to Him and brightens with His 

praise. 
There is no other God ! But evil Powers 
Make war against Him in the darkened 

world; 
And many temples have been built to them. 

— XXVIII, 438. 

9@aj» ttuentp=sJebentf) 

The un- Man the maker of cities is also a builder 
seen altar of altars. 

He setteth tables for the gods among his 
habitations. 

O my God, these are the altars of ignorance: 
They are built by thy children who do not 
know thee. 

Then the Lord mercifully sent his angel 
forth to lead me. 

And I came through the courts of the tem- 
ple to the holy of holies. 

Here the multitudes are kneeling in the 

silence of the spirit, 
They are kneeling at the unseen altar of 

the lowly heart. — xxviii, 372. 

76 



!a^ap ttoentp:;eigif)tft 

To those who trust in the Lord and do Sleeping 
good, to those who He down with thoughts of and waking 
His mercy and truth, it matters not whether 
they awake in a curtained chamber or in a 
wild cavern, " the Hght is sweet, and it is a 
pleasant thing to behold the sun." — i, 50. 



iSl^ap ttoentp;:^mntl| 

Many people are so afraid to die that they Fear not<, 
have never begun to live. But courage eman- but live 
cipates us and gives us to ourselves, that we 
may give ourselves freely and without fear to 
God. How sweet and clear and steady is the 
life into which this virtue enters day by day, 
not merely in those great flashes of excite- 
ment which come in the moments of crisis, 
but in the presence of the hourly perils, the 
continual conflicts. Not to tremble at the 
shadows which surround us, not to shrink 
from the foes who threaten us, not to hesitate 
and falter and stand despairing still among the 
perplexities and trials of our life, but to move 
steadily onward without fear, if only we can 
keep ourselves without reproach, — surely that 
is what the Psalmist meant by good courage 
and strength of heart, and it is a most com- 
fortable, pleasant, peaceful, and happy virtue. 
—IV, 58. 

77 



Decoration There is considerable talk just now about 
Day the New South, as if this were a great dis- 

covery which some one had made, or a new 
region which some fluent orator had created, 
and as if this discovery or creation would 
account for the present condition of affairs. 
But in fact it is just the old South and the 
old North, anointed with the oil of brotherly 
love, which has flowed down from the head 
even to the fringe of the garments. — i, 241. 



a^ap tl)ii:tp:^fir^t 

The better Do we hear the voices of hope and cheer 
future rising on every side and answering from land 

to land, proclaiming the promise of a better 
day in the future than any that have dawned 
in the past, prophesying through all discour- 
agements and regrets that the course of man- 
kind is not downward but upward, acknowl- 
edging that when all men are like Christ earth 
will be like heaven ? It is the divinity of King 
Jesus, manifested in human flesh, real, living, 
and eternal, the hope, the joy, the glory of 
mankind. — i, 126. 

78 



3Futte tit^t 

JEvery meadow and every woodland is a Tl^e seeing 
college, and every city square is full of teach- O'^ 
ers. Do you know how the stream flows, 
how the kingfisher poises above it, how the 
trout swims in it, how the ferns uncurl along 
its banks ? Do you know the structural 
aspect of man's temples and palaces and 
bridges, of nature's mountains and trees and 
flowers ? Do you know the tones and ac- 
cents of human speech, the songs of birds, 
the voices of the forests and the sea ? If not, 
you need creative culture to make you a sen- 
sitive possessor of the beauty of the world. — 
XXII, 234. 



By the faith that the flowers show when they Nature'' s 

bloom unbidden, trust 

By the calm of the river's flow to a goal that 

is hidden. 
By the trust of the tree that clings to its deep 

foundation. 
By the courage of wild birds' wings on the 

long migration, 
(Wonderful secret of peace that abides in 

Nature's breast !) 
Teach me how to confide, and live my life, 

and rest. — xx, 41. 

79 



So7/g of a March on, my soul, nor like a laggard stay! 

pilgrim- March swiftly on. Yet err not from the way 

soul Where all the nobly wise of old have trod — 

The path of faith made by the sons of God. 

Follow the marks that they have set beside 
The narrow, cloud-swept track, to be thy 

guide : 
Follow, and honour what the past has gained. 
And forward still, that more may be attained. 

Something to learn, and something to forget : 
Hold fast the good, and seek the better yet : 
Press on, and prove the pilgrim-hope of 

youth, — 
That Creeds are milestones on the road to 

Truth. — IX, 57. 



Lo-aed into The special, personal, elective love of Christ 
loving for His own is not exclusive ; it is magnifi- 

cently and inimitably inclusive. He loved 
His disciples into loving their fellow-men. 
He Hfted them into union with God ; but He 
did not Uft them out of union with the world ; 
and every tie that bound them to humanity, 
every friendship, every fellowship, every link 
of human intercourse, was to be a channel for 
the grace of God that bringeth salvation, that 
it might appear to all men. — vii, 310. 

80 



S^une ftftft 

It is said that a friend once asked the great Cheerful 
composer Haydn, why his church music was religion 
always so full of gladness. He answered, " I 
cannot make it otherwise. I write according 
to the thoughts I feel; when I think upon my 
God, my heart is so full of joy that the notes 
dance and leap from my pen ; and since God 
has given me a cheerful heart, it will be par- 
doned me that I serve Him with a cheerful 
spirit." 

Pardoned ? Nay, it will be praised and 
rewarded. For God looks with approval, 
and man turns with gratitude, to every one 
who shows by a cheerful Ufe that religion is a 
blessing for this world and the next. — i, 96. 



A dumb love is acceptable only from the Be not 
lower animals. God has given us speech that silent 
we should call upon His name. Worship is 
to religion what fragrance is to the flower. 
. . . Be not ashamed to bow your knees 
where men can see you. Be not ashamed to 
sing His praise where men can hear you. There 
is nothing that can become you so much as 
to speak well of your heavenly Father. — i, 256. 

81 



3Fune ^ebmtft 



Thorns and The best fose-bush, after all, is Hot that 
roses which has the fewest thorns, but that which 

bears the finest roses. — xiii, 149. 



The river The river of dreams runs silently down 
of dreams By a secret way that no man knows ; 

But the soul lives on while the dream- 
tide flows 
Through the gardens bright, or the forests 
brown ; 
And I think sometimes that our whole 

life seems 
To be more than half made up of dreams. 
For its changing sights, and its passing 

shows. 
And its morning hopes, and its midnight 

fears. 
Are left behind with the vanished years. 
Onward, with ceaseless motion, 
The life-stream flows to the ocean, — 

And we follow the tide, awake or asleep, 
Till we see the dawn on Love's great 

deep. 
When the bar at the harbour-mouth is 

crossed. 
And the river of dreams in the sea is lost. 

—XIV, 83. 

82 



3Futte ni 



When Christian Theology has fully re- Art and 
turned to its vital centre in Christ, and its di- religion 
vided forces are reunited, amid the hostile 
camps and warring elements of modern soci- 
ety, in a simple and potent ministry of deliv- 
erance and blessing to all the oppressed and 
comfortless " In His Name " ; when art has 
felt the vivid reality and the ideal beauty of 
this humane gospel of the personal entrance 
of God into the Hfe of man, and has come 
back to it for what art needs to-day more 
than all else — a deep, living, spiritual impulse 
and inspiration — then art will render a more 
perfect service to religion, and religion will 
give a new elevation to art. — iii, 109. 



3Fune tentl) 

Men draw a broad line between the public The city 
and the private, and think that the evils of so- and the 
ciety can be cured without paying any atten- home 
tion to the virtues of the household, or that the 
purity of family hfe can be maintained without 
regard to the atmosphere of society. But the 
Bible teaches us that the public and the pri- 
vate depend upon each other, and that the wel- 
fare of the city and the welfare of the home 
are bound up together. — i, 225. 

83 



Live your There is no good in praying for anything 

prayers unless you will also try for it. All the sighs 

and supplications in the world will not bring 
wisdom to the heart that fills itself with folly 
every day, or mercy to the soul that sinks itself 
in sin, or usefulness and honor to the life that 
wastes itself in vanity and inanity. — i, 21. 



5^unc ttoriftl) 

The gates Through the outer portals of the ear 

of hearing Only the outer voice of things may pass ; 

And through the middle doorways of the mind 
Only the half-formed voice of human thoughts, 
Uncertain and perplexed with endless doubt ; 
But through the inmost gate the spirit hears 
The voice of that great Spirit who is Life. 
Beneath the tones of Hving things, He breathes 
A deeper tone than ever ear hath heard ; 
And underneath the troubled thoughts of men, 
He thinks forever, and His thought is peace. 
Behold, I touch thee once again, my child : 
The third and last of those three hidden gates 
That closed around thy soul and shut thee in, 
Falls open now, and thou shalt truly hear. 

— XIV, 51. 

84 



3fune tfjirteenft 

Thank God we can see, in the glory of morn, Banners 
The invincible flag that our fathers de- ofjree- 
fended; dom 

And our hearts can repeat what the heroes 
have sworn. 
That war shall not end till the war-lust 
is ended. 
Then the bloodthirsty sword shall no longer 

be lord 
Of the nations oppressed by the conqueror's 
horde, 
But the banners of freedom shall peace- 
fully wave 
O'er the world of the free and the lands 
of the brave. — xxxii. 

3fune fourteentf) 

First of the flags of earth to dare ^'Old 
A heraldry so high; Glory'' 

First of the flags of earth to bear 
The blazons of the sky ... 

O bright flag, O brave flag, O flag to lead 
the free ! 
The hand of God thy colours blent. 
And heaven to earth thy glory lent, 
To shield the weak, and guide the strong 
To make an end of human wrong, 
And draw a countless human host to follow 
after thee! — xxviii, 193, 201, 

8s 



3^une fifteentft 

A vagrant The harvest of the gardens and the or- 
wiih chards, the result of prudent planting and pa- 

tient cultivation, is full of satisfaction. We 
anticipate it in due season, and when it comes 
we fill our mouths and are grateful. But 
pray, kind Providence, let me slip over the 
fence out of the garden now and then, to 
shake a nut-tree that grows untended in the 
wood. Give me liberty to put off my black 
coat for a day, and go a-fishing on a free 
stream, and find by chance a wild strawberry. 
— XIII, 89. 



Simplify We must get back from the confusions of 

•^our faith theology to the simplicity that is in Christ. 
We must see clearly that our central message 
is not the gospel of a system, but the gospel 
of a Person. We must hold fast the true 
humanity of Jesus in order that we may know 
what is meant by His true divinity. We must 
recognize His supreme authority in the inter- 
pretation of the Bible itself. We must accept 
His revelations of human liberty and divine 
sovereignty. Above all, we must accept His 
great truth of election to service as our only 
salvation from the curse of sin, which is self- 
ishness.— vii, ix. 

86 



3fune s^ebenteentf) 

Far richer than a thornless rose 
Whose branch with beauty never glows. 
Is that which every June adorns 
With perfect bloom among its thorns. 

Merely to live without a pain 
Is little gladness, little gain, 
Ah, welcome joy tho' mixt with grief, — 
The thorn-set flower that crowns the leaf. 

—XXXI, 52. 



Thorn 
and rose 



3fune eigiiteentf) 

Gerasa was as really a part of God's big 'Divine 
world as Shechem or Jezreel or Sychar. It equality 
stood in His sight, and He must have re- 
garded the human souls that lived there. 
He must have cared for them, and watched 
over them, and judged them equitably, 
dividing the just from the unjust, the chil- 
dren of love from the children of hate, even 
as He did with men on the other side of 
the Jordan, even as He does with all men 
everywhere to-day. If faith in a God who 
is the Father and Lord of all mankind means 
anything it means this: equal care, equal 
justice, equal mercy for all the world. 
Gerasa has been forgotten of men, but 
God never forgot it. — xxvi, 195, 

87 



Matins 



S^une ninetecntl) 

Flowers, when the night is done, 
Lift their heads to greet the sun ; 
Sweetest looks and odours raise, 
In a silent hymn of praise. 

So my heart would turn away 
PVom the darkness to the dayj 
Lying open, in God's sight, 
As a flower in the light. — ix, ii. 



3^une ttomtiet!) 

Thefriend- All he needs now, as he sets out to spend 
sbip-Jire a day on the Neversink, or the Willowemoc, 
or the Shepaug, or the Swiftwater, is a good 
lunch in his pocket, and a little friendship-iire 
to burn pleasantly beside him while he eats 
his frugal fare and prolongs his noonday rest. 
This form of fire does less work than any 
other in the world. Yet it is far from being 
useless ; and I, for one, should be sorry to live 
without it. Its only use is to make a visible 
centre of interest where there are two or three 
anglers eating their lunch together, or to sup- 
ply a kind of companionship to a lone fisher- 
man. It is kindled and burns for no other 
purpose than to give you the sense of being 
at home and at ease. Why the fire should do 



this, I cannot tell, but it does.- 

88 



-XIII, 226. 



saline ttocntp;:ftt^t 

Fiction, like wine, tastes best in the place 
where it was grown. And the scenery of a 
foreign land (including architecture, which is 
artificial landscape) grows less dreamlike and 
unreal to our perception when we people it 
with familiar characters from our favourite 
novels. Even on a first journey we feel our- 
selves among old friends. — vi, 84. 



Books and 
travel 



S^une ttoentp^^^econti 

In the time of adversity one should prepare Save some 
for prosperity. I fancy there are a good many trees and 
people unconsciously repeating the mistake of dreams 
the Canadian farmer — chopping down all the 
native growths of life, clearing the ground of 
all the useless pretty things that seem to cum- 
ber it, sacrificing everything to utility and suc- 
cess. We fell the last green tree for the sake 
of raising an extra hill of potatoes ; and never 
stop to think what an ugly, barren place we 
may have to sit in while we eat them. The 
ideals, the attachments— yes, even the dreams 
of youth are worth saving. For the artificial 
tastes with which age tries to make good their 
loss grow very slowly and cast but a slender 
shade. — vi, 201. 

89 



^nnt ttDentp;;tf)ttt! 

77;!^^ Time is 

Too Slow for those who Wait, 
Too Swift for those who Fear, 
Too Long for those who Grieve, 
Too Short for those who Rejoice ; 
But for those who Love, 

Time is not. — xx, 105. 



S^une ttDentpr^fouttli 

Reliance Not to the swift, the race : 

Not to the strong, the fight : 
Not to the righteous, perfect grace : 
Not to the wise, the light. 

But often faltering feet 
Come surest to the goal ; 
And they who walk in darkness meet 
The sunrise of the soul. 

The truth the wise men sought 
Was spoken by a child; 
The alabaster box was brought 
In trembling hands defiled. 

Not from my torch, the gleam, 
But from the stars above : 
Not from my heart, life's crystal stream. 

But from the depths of Love. — xx, lOO. 

90 



Christianity is complete, and has been so mjJe;^ 
ever since it was embodied in the life of treasures 
Christ. Every one who has Christ in his 
heart has the whole of it; nothing can be 
added, nothing can be taken away. But the 
understanding of it, the hving sense of what 
it means, comes only by degrees, to different 
men and to different ages. Even yet, as we 
gladly believe, the Church has much undis- 
covered country and many hidden treasures in 
that territory of truth which she has possessed 
from the beginning. — ^iii, 48. 



The first time that I ever heard the skylark A skylark 
was on the great plain of Salisbury. Sheep singing 
were feeding and shepherds were watching 
near by. From the contentment of her lowly 
nest in the grass the songstress rose on quiver- 
ing wings, pouring out a perfect flood of joy. 
With infinite courage the feathered atom 
breasted the spaces of the sky, as if her music 
lifted her irresistibly upward. With sublime 
confidence she passed out of sight into the 
azure ; but not out of hearing, for her cheer- 
ful voice fell yet more sweetly through the 
distance, as if it were saying, " Forever, for- 
ever 1 " — I, 36. 

91 



Content' Why should we be disturbed, and harassed^ 

ment and filled with gloom, at the chances of com- 

merce and the changes of business ? Our 
peace of mind is worth more than all things 
else, and this we can keep in a log cabin or in 
a hut of turf. Is not this the lesson which 
Christ would have us learn from the lilies 
and the sparrows ? God may give us more 
or less, but so long as we are content, it will 
always be enough and we cannot want. — 



3Pune ttomtp::^ci3l^tl| 

The One The person of Jesus Christ stands solid in 

Who abides the history of man. He is indeed more sub- 
stantial, more abiding, in human apprehension, 
than any form of matter, or any mode of force. 
The conceptions of earth and air and fire and 
water change and melt around Him, as the 
clouds melt and change around an everlasting 
mountain peak. All attempts to resolve Him 
into a myth, a legend, an idea, — and hundreds of 
such attempts have been made, — have drifted 
over the enduring reality of His character and 
left not a rack behind. The result of all 
criticism, the final verdict of enlightened com- 
mon-sense, is that Christ is historical. — vii, 

58. 

92 



who will walk a mile with me A mile 
Along life's merry way ? with me 

A comrade blithe and full of glee, 
Who dares to laugh out loud and free, 
And let his frolic fancy play, 
Like a happy child, through the flowers gay 
That fill the field and fringe the way 
Where he walks a mile with me. 

And who will walk a mile with me 

Along life's weary way ? 
A friend whose heart has eyes to see 
The stars shine out o'er the darkening lea, 
And the quiet rest at the end o' the day, — 
A friend who knows, and dares to say. 
The brave, sweet words that cheer the way 

Where he walks a mile with me. 

With such a comrade, such a friend, 

1 fain would walk till journeys end. 
Through summer sunshine, winter rain. 
And then ? — Farewell, we shall meet again ! 

—XX, 75. 

S^une tl)xttiet& 

" Ride into the wind," said Lancelot, " and Life's ad- 
what chance soever it blows thee, thereby do venture 
thy best, as it were the first and the last. 
Take not thy hand from it until it be ful- 
filled. So shalt thou most quickly and 
worthily achieve knighthood," — xvzi, 51. 

93 



The Fresh' Think of the beautiful charity which car- 
air Fund ries vast multitudes of little ones every sum- 
mer out of the crowded city into the fresh air 
of the country. How did that begin ? In the 
attempt of a country minister to bring a score 
of poor children to spend a few days in the 
farm-houses of his scanty parish. What can 
we do ? Nothing. What can God do with 
us ? Anything ; whatsoever He will. — iv, 90. 



3^uip iBfecottl! 

In motion But wherever you are, and whoever you 

may be, there is one thing in which you and 
I are just alike, at this moment, and in all the 
moments of our existence. We are not at 
rest ; we are on a journey. Our life is not a 
mere fact ; it is a movement, a tendency, a 
steady, ceaseless progress towards an unseen 
goal. We are gaining something, or losing 
something every day. Even when our posi- 
tion and our character seem to remain pre- 
cisely the same, they are changing. For the 
mere advance of time is a change. It is not 
the same thing to have a bare field in January 
and in July. The season makes the difference. 
The limitations that are childlike in the child 
are childish in the man. — viii, 1 1 . 

94 



The inward joy and power of our life, in Gratitude 
every sphere, come from the discovery that its as a law 
highest obligation rests at last upon the law 
of gratitude. In every tie that binds us we 
are made free and glad to serve, when we 
recognize that we have been " bought with a 
price."-^ — IV, 109. 

3FuIp fourtft 

The love of liberty. Indepen- 

There is no deeper passion than this, native dence Day 
to the human heart. To be free, to move in 
accordance with voluntary choice, to render 
submission only where it is due, to follow 
reason and conscience willingly without the 
compulsion of brute force — this is the in- 
stinct of personality. The nobler the race, 
the more highly developed the individual, the 
stronger and more ardent does this passion 
become. It is no mere self-asserting spirit 
of revolt against lawful authority, no wild, 
untrammelled desire to fling the reins upon the 
neck of appetite and indulge the personal im- 
pulses without restraint. The lover of liberty 
is always a lover of law. He desires to follow 
the best, not the worst ; and he rebels, not 
against the restraints of justice, but against 
the constraints of power ; not against the yoke 
of service, but against the chains of bondage. 
—I, 177. 

95 



American 
ideals 



gfuip fiftt) 

Democracy can never be extended by 
force, as you would fling a net over a flock 
of birds ; but give it a chance and it will grow, 
as a tree grows, by sending down its roots 
into the heart of humanity and lifting its top 
toward the light and spreading its arms wider 
and wider until all the persecuted flocks of 
heaven find refuge beneath its protecting shade. 

The ideal of American manhood, the ideal 
of American government, the ideal of Ameri- 
can glory and influence — these three are the 
ancestral ideals that have been the strength 
and prosperity of America through the nine- 
teenth century. Will they endure through 
the twentieth century ? — xxii, 99. 



The ascend- If you are looking for that which is best in 
ing path the men and women with whom you come 
into contact ; if you are seeking also to give 
them that which is best in yourself; if you 
are looking for a friendship which shall help 
you to know yourself as you are and to ful- 
fill yourself as you ought to be ; if you are 
looking for a love which shall not be a flat- 
tering dream and a madness of desire, but a 
true comradeship and a mutual inspiration to 
all nobility of living, then you are surely on 
the ascending path. — xviii, 33. 

96 



" In la sua volontade e nostra pace.^* The Grea1 

r^ ^ . . River 

O mighty river ! strong, eternal Will, 

Wherein the streams of human good and ill 

Are onward swept, conflicting, to the sea. 

The world is safe because it floats in Thee. 

— IX, 660 



3Fulp txsm 

The psalmists delight in the vision of the Beyond 
world, and their joy quickens their senses to beauty 
read alike the larger hieroglyphs of glory writ- 
ten in the stars and the delicate tracings of 
transient beauty on leaf and flower ; to hear 
alike the mighty roaring of the sea and the soft, 
sweet laughter of the rustling cornfields. But 
in all these they see and hear the handwriting 
and the voice of God. It is His presence that 
makes the world sublime and beautiful. The 
direct, piercing, elevating sense of this pres- 
ence simplifies, enlarges, and ennobles their 
style, and makes it different from other nature- 
poetry. They never lose themselves, like 
Theocritus and Wordsworth and Shelley and 
Tennyson, in the contemplation and descrip- 
tion of natural beauty. They see it, but they 
always see beyond it. — xv, 24. 

97 



2Fulp nintlj 

Living at The people who always live in houses, and 

secondhand sleep on beds, and walk on pavements, and 
buy their food from butchers and bakers and 
grocers, are not the most blessed inhabitants 
of this wide and various earth. The circum- 
stances of their existence are too mathematical 
and secure for perfect contentment. They 
live at second or third hand. They are board- 
ers in the world. Everything is done for them 
by somebody else.- — xiii, 14. 



3Fulp tentfi 

A defence Suppose the fish is not caught by an angler, 

of angling what is his alternative fate? He will either 
perish miserably in the struggles of the crowd- 
ed net, or die of old age and starvation like 
the long, lean stragglers which are sometimes 
found in the shallow pools, or be devoured by 
a larger fish, or torn to pieces by a seal or an 
otter. Compared with any of these miserable 
deaths, the fate of a salmon who is hooked m 
a clear stream and after a glorious fight re- 
ceives the happy dispatch at the moment when 
he touches the shore, is a sort of euthanasia. 
And, since the fish was made to be man's 
food, the angler who brings him to the table 
of destiny in the cleanest, quickest, kindest 
way is, in fact, his benefactor. — vi, 135. 

98 



S^ulp elebentfj 

Imitation may be the sincerest flattery, but 
imitation never produces the deepest resem- 
blance. The man who imitates is concerned 
with that which is outward ; but kinship of 
spirit is inward. He who is next of kin to a 
master-mind will be too great for the work of 
a copyist; he will be influenced, if at all, un- 
consciously ; and though the intellectual re- 
lationship may be expressed also in some ex- 
ternal traits of speech and manner, the true 
likeness will be in the temper of the soul and 
the sameness of the moral purpose. — ii, 93. 



Likeness 
without 
imitation 



2Fulp ttoriftl) 

A vessel filled to the brim with water is 
apt to spill a little when it is shaken. Peter is 
so full of human nature that, whenever he is 
excited or agitated, it seems to overflow, and 
some word or deed comes out, which would 
be almost childish in its impulsiveness, if it 
were not for the virile force of the great strong 
heart behind it. The consequence of this is, 
that he is more often in trouble, more fre- 
quently rebuked and corrected, than any other 
of the disciples. — iv, 169. 

99 



A saint 
with a full 
heart 



3[ul|> tljirteentti 

America \ love thine inland seas, 

Thy groves of giant trees, 

Thy rolling plains; 
Thy rivers' mighty sweep, 
Thy mystic canyons deep, 
Thy mountains wild and steep. 

All thy domains; 

Thy silver Eastern strands, 
Thy Golden Gate that stands 

Wide to the West; 
Thy flowery Southland fair. 
Thy sweet and crystal air, — 
O land beyond compare, 

Thee I love best ! — xxviii, 140. 

3ful|> fourteenth 

France Give us a name to move the heart 

With the strength that noble griefs impart, 
A name that speaks of the blood outpoured 
To save mankind from the sway of the 

sword, — 
A name that calls on the world to share 
In the burden of sacrificial strife 
When the cause at stake is the world's free 

life 
And the rule of the people everywhere, — 
A name like a vow, a name like a prayer. 
I give you France ! — xxxii. 

100 



S^ulp fifteenth 

Christianity is something more than a sys- The tide of 
tern of doctrines ; it is a life, a tone, a spirit, f^^^h 
a great current of memories, beliefs, and hopes 
flowing through millions of hearts. And he 
who launches his words upon this current 
finds that they are carried with a strength 
beyond his own, and freighted often with a 
meaning which he himself has not fully un- 
derstood as it flashed through him. — ii, 274. 



5PuIp ^tcteentl^ 

'' Born within a lowly stable, where the cattle The King 

round Me stood, of the 

Trained a carpenter in Nazareth, I have toiled, 'porkers 
and found it good. 

" They who tread the path of labour follow 

where My feet have trod ; 
They who work without complaining do the 

holy will of God. 

«' Where the many toil together, there am I 

among My own; 
Where the tired workman sleepeth, there am 

I with him alone." — xiv, 22. 

lOI 



Whither We cannot divide our work from ourselves, 

bound? nor isolate our future from our qualities. A 

ship might as well try to sail north with her 
jib, and east with her foresail, and south with 
her mainsail, as a man to go one way in con- 
duct, and another way in character, and an- 
other way in destiny. 

What we do belongs to what we are; and 
what we are is what becomes of us. — viii, 1 2. 



Fruit in In the secluded garden of Christ's College, 

old age at Cambridge, there is a mulberry -tree of 

which tradition says that it was planted by 
John Milton in his student days. I remember 
sitting on the green turf below it, a few years 
ago, and looking up at the branches, heavy 
with age and propped on crutches, and won- 
dering to see that the old tree still brought 
forth fruit. It was not the size nor the qual- 
ity of the fruit that impressed me. I hardly 
thought of that. The strange thing, the beau- 
tiful thing, was that, after so many years, the 
tree was yet bearing. — 11, 279. 

102 



3fulp nineteenth 

There are two good rules which ought to Two good 
be written upon every heart. Never believe rules 
anything bad about anybody, unless you posi- 
tively know that it is true. Never tell even 
that, unless you feel that it is absolutely neces- 
sary, and that God is listening while you tell 
it.— I, 49. 

S^ulp ttoenttetf) 

Talk is that form of human speech which Talk 
is exempt from all duties, foreign and do- 
mestic. It is the nearest thing in the world 
to thinking and feeling aloud. It is necessa- 
rily not for publication — solely an evidence of 
good faith and mutual kindness. You tell 
me what you have seen and what you are 
thinking about, because you take it for granted 
that it will interest and entertain me ; and you 
listen to my replies and the recital of my ad- 
ventures and opinions, because you know I 
like to tell them, and because you find some- 
thing in them, of one kind or another, that 
you care to hear. It is a nice game, with 
easy, simple rules, and endless possibilities of 
variation. And if we go into it with the right 
spirit, and play it for love, without heavy 
stakes, the chances are that if we happen to 
be fairly talkable people we shall have one of 
the best things in the world, — a mighty good 
talk. — XIII, 59. 

103 



^ulp ttoentp^fit^t 

The point Indeed, it is not from the highest peaks, 

of view according to my experience, that one gets the 

grandest prospects, but rather from those of 
middle height, which are so isolated as to give 
a wide circle of vision, and from which one 
can see both the valleys and the summits. 
Monte Rosa itself gives a less imposing view 
than the Corner Grat. 

It is possible, in this world, to climb too 
high for pleasure. — vi, 162. 



2FuIp ttDentp^^econb 

** In the shadow of thy wings I take refuge.'* 

The pro- How exquisite is the beauty of this figure, 

tecting and how perfect is the spiritual repose which 

shadow it expresses ! David was not content with 

an image drawn from the cavern in which he 
had found shelter. It was not enough for 
him to say that the care in which he confided 
was like the great walls and overarching roof 
of the cave. He felt that God was nearer 
than these, that He brooded above His people 
as a mother-bird covers her nest with her own 
feathers. High in the air the cruel hawks go 
sailing by ; but they cannot reach the nest ; 
even their black shadows cannot fall upon it 
so long as it is protected by the shadow of 
those other, greater wings. — i, 46. 

104 



3fulp th3entj>=tf)irb 

Now, far beyond all language and all art The Grand 
In thy wild splendour. Canyon Marvellous, Canyon 
The secret of thy stillness lies unveiled 
In wordless worship ! This is holy ground, — 
Thou art no grave, no prison, but a shrine. 
Garden of Temples filled with Silent Praise, 
If God were blind thy Beauty could not be ! 

— XXXI, 8. 



3ful|> tlt)tntj>=fourtt> 

There was something in that land, surely. The Holy 
some personal and indefinable spirit of Land 
place, which was known and loved by 
prophet and psalmist, and most of all by 
Him who spread His table on the green 
grass, and taught His disciples while they 
walked the narrow paths waist-deep in 
rustling wheat, and spoke His messages of 
love from a little boat rocking on the lake, 
and found His asylum of prayer high on 
the mountainside, and kept His parting- 
hour with His friends in the moon-silvered 
quiet of the garden of olives. That spirit 
of place, that soul of the Holy Land, is 
what I fain would meet on my pilgrim- 
age, — for the sake of Him who interprets it 
in love. And I know well where to find it, — 
out-of-doors, — XXVI, 6. 

105 . 



S^ulp ttoentp^ftftfi 

The wak- And it is well also when the spiritual pow- 

ing of the ers are roused with the physical. It is well 
soul when the soul is active and excited ; moved 

and thrilled by feeling, as the flowers in the 
field are stirred by the morning breeze. Then 
the sweet odours flow out. The bells do not 
ring until they swing. The birds do not please 
us until they leave their nests and begin to 
warble their sweet notes. — i, 50. 



Observa- Do you suppose that this wondrous stage 

tion as a of earth was set, and all the myriad actors on it 
dut;^ taught to play their parts, without a spectator 

in view ? Do you think that there is any- 
thing better for you and me to do, now and 
then, than to sit down quietly in a humble 
seat, and watch a few scenes in the drama ? 
Has it not something to say to us, and do we 
not understand it best when we have a peace- 
ful heart and free from dolor ? That is what 
in-dolence means, and there are no better teach- 
ers of it than the light-hearted birds and un- 
toiling flowers, commended by the wisest of 
all masters to our consideration ; nor can we 
find a more pleasant pedagogue to lead us to 
their school than a small, merry brook. — xiii, 
194. 

106 



S^ulp ttonitp:;^e^entl) 

Goodness of heart, freedom of spirit, gay- Four Jim 
ety of temper, and friendliness of disposition, things 
— these are four fine things, and doubtless as 
acceptable to God as they are agreeable to 
men. The talkability which springs out of 
these qualities has its roots in a good soil. 
On such a plant one need not look for the 
poison berries of malign discourse, nor for the 
Dead Sea apples of frivolous mockery. But 
fair fruit will be there, pleasant to the sight 
and good for food, brought forth abundantly 
according to the season. — xiii, 6i. 



S^ulp ttoentp:^e!g||tf| 

Poets like Shakespeare, Milton, and Words- The Bible 
worth ; novelists like Scott and romancers like a bond of 
Hawthorne ; essayists like Bacon, Steele, and sympathy 
Addison ; critics of life, unsystematic philos- 
ophers, like Carlyle and Ruskin, — all draw 
upon the Bible as a treasury of illustrations, 
and use it as a book equally familiar to them- 
selves and to their readers. It is impossible 
to put too high a value upon such a universal 
volume, even as a mere literary possession. 
It forms a bond of sympathy between the 
most cultivated and the simplest of the peo- 
ple. The same book lies upon the desk of 
the scholar and in the cupboard of the peasant. 
— II, 246. 

107 



Our school- 
masters 



3FuIp ttoentp^nintl) 

Facts are teachers. Experiences are les- 
sons. Friends are guides. Work is a master. 
Love is an interpreter. Teaching itself is a 
method of learning. Joy carries a divining 
rod and discovers fountains. Sorrow is an 
astronomer and shows us the stars. 

What I have lived I really know, and what 
I really know I partly own ; and so, begirt 
with what I know and what I own, I move 
through my curriculum, elective and required, 
gaining nothing but what I learn, at once in- 
structed and examined by every duty and 
every pleasure. — xxi, 3. 



g^ulp tfixrtietl) 

Summer The night deepened around him and the 

night sky hung out its thousand lamps. Odours of 

the woods floated on the air : the spicy fra- 
grance of the firs ; the breath of hidden banks 
of twin-flower. Musk-rats swam noiselessly 
in the shadows, diving with a great commo- 
tion as the canoe ran upon them suddenly. 
A horned owl hooted from the branch of a 
dead pine-tree; far back in the forest a fox 
barked twice. The moon crept up behind 
the wall of trees and touched the stream with 



silver. — xvii, 144. 



108 



3fulp ti)irtj>=firs;t 

It Is here, In this quaint and carefully Geth- 
tended garden, this precious place which semane 
has been saved alike from the oblivious 
trampling of the crowd and from the need- 
less imprisonment of four walls and a roof, 
it is here in the open air, in the calm glow of 
the afternoon, under the shadow of Mount 
Zion, that we find for the first time that 
which we have come so far to seek, — the 
soul of the Holy Land, the inward sense 
of the real presence of Jesus. — xxvi, 79. 



A deeper crimson in the rose, 'Dorothea 

A deeper blue in sky and sea. 
And ever, as the summer goes, 
A deeper loss in losing thee ! 

A deeper music in the strain 
Of hermit-thrush from lonely tree; 
And deeper grows the sense of gain 
My life has found in having thee. 

A deeper love, a deeper rest, 
A deeper joy in all 1 see; 
And ever deeper in my breast 
A silver song that comes from thee. 

XXXI, 46. 

109 



spirit of The instruments were but the tools. The 

music composer was the master-designer. The 

leader and his orchestra were the weavers 
of the rich robe of sound, in which alone 
the hidden spirit of Music, daughter of 
Psyche and Amor, becomes perceptible to 
mortal sense. 

The smooth and harmonious action of 
the players seemed to lend a new charm, 
delicate and indefinable, to the develop- 
ment of the clear and heart-strengthening 
theme with its subtle variations and its 
powerful, emphatic close, like the fulness 
of meaning in the last line of a noble sonnet. 

XXIX, 94. 



Mugus^t tliirb 

The But silence alone would not have healed 

music- and restored his spirit. It needed the pres- 

lover ence of music: tones measured, ordered, 

and restrained; varied and blended not by 
chance, but by feeling and reason; sound 
expressive of the secret life and the rhyth- 
mical emotion of the human heart. And 
this he found flowing all around him, enter- 
ing deeply into him, filling all the parched 
and empty channels of his being, as he 
listened to Beethoven's great Symphony in 
C Minor. — xxix, 88. 



no 



Slugu^t fourtlj 

Every moment of life, I suppose, is more 
or less of a turning-point. Opportunities are 
swarming around us all the time thicker than 
gnats at sundown. We walk through a cloud 
of chances, and if we were always conscious 
of them they would worry us almost to death. 

But happily our sense of uncertainty is 
soothed and cushioned by habit, so that we 
can live comfortably with it. — xiii, 35. 



Critical 

moments 



Slugu^t ftftft 

Music lends a strange sweetness to the re- Musk 
membrance of the past, and makes the troub- 
les of the present heavier, yet easier to bear. 
And then it borrows the comfort of hope. 
It drops the threads of sorrow one by one, 
and catches the sweet beams of light reflected 
from the future, and weaves them magically in 
among its harmonies, blending, brightening, 
softening the mystic web, until we are en- 
closed, we know not how, in a garment of 
consolation, and the cold, tired heart finds 
itself warmed, and rested, and filled with 
courage. Most gracious ministry of music ! 
Happy are they who know how to exercise 
it in simplicity and love ; happy they whose 
life-pilgrimage is cheered and lightened by 
such service. — i, 164. 

Ill 



The liberty " A man's life consisteth not in the abun- 
of joy dance of the things which he possesseth." 

The land of wealth is not the empire of peace. 
Joy is not bounded on the north by poverty, 
on the east by obscurity, on the west by sim- 
plicity, and on the south by servitude. It 
runs far ove^ these borders on every side. 
The lowliest, plainest, narrowest life may be 
the sweetest. — vii, 289. 



The meas- What does it profit a man to be the landed 

ure of sue- proprietor of countless acres unless he can 
^^^^ reap the harvest of delight that blooms from 

every rood of God's earth for the seeing eye 
and the loving spirit ? And who can reap 
that harvest so closely that there shall not be 
abundant gleaning left for all mankind ? The 
most that a wide principality can yield to its 
legal owner is a living. But the real owner 
can gather from a field of golden-rod, shining 
in the August sunlight, an unearned incre- 
ment of delight. 

We measure success by accumulation. 
The measure is false. The true measure is 
appreciation. He who loves most has most. 
—XIII, 178. 

112 



augusd eisfttfi 

You see we are all scholars, boarding Play-time 
scholars, in the House of Life, from the 
moment when birth matriculates us to the 
moment when death graduates us. We 
never really leave the big school, no matter 
what we do. But my point is this: the 
lessons that we learn when we do not know 
that we are studying are often the pleas- 
antest, and not always the least important. 
There is a benefit as well as a joy in finding 
out that you can lay down your task for 
a proper while without being disloyal to 
your duty. Play-time is a part of school- 
time, not a break in it. — xxv, 4. 



aiugttSJt nintlj 

Here our white tents are pitched among Jerusalem 
the trees, with the dear flag of our horne camp 
flying over them. Here the big stars will 
look kindly down upon us through the sil- 
very leaves, and the sounds of human tur- 
moil and contention will not trouble us. 
The distant booming of the bell on the 
Mount of Olives will mark the night-hours 
for us, and the long-drawn plaintive call of 
the muezzin from the minaret of the little 
mosque at the edge of the grove will wake 
us to the sunrise. — xxvi, 42. 

"3 



A prayer Grant us the knowledge that we need 
for light To solve the questions of the mind ; 

Light Thou our candle while we read, 

And keep our hearts from going blind ; 
Enlarge our vision to behold 
The wonders Thou hast wrought of old ; 
Reveal thyself in every law, 
And gild the towers of truth with holy awe. 

—IX, 86. 



On the Jesus wrote not with a pen upon enduring 

tablets of parchment, nor with a stylus upon imperish- 
the heart able brass : 

*' He stooped 
And wrote upon the unrtcording ground.'''' 

He would not leave even a single line of manu- 
script where His followers could preserve it 
with literal reverence and worship it as a sa- 
cred relic. He chose to inscribe His teach- 
ing upon no other leaves than those which 
are folded within the human soul. He chose 
to trust His words to the faithful keeping of 
memory and love ; and He said of them, with 
subHme confidence, that they should never 
pass away. He chose that the truth which 
He declared and the life which He lived should 
never be divided, but that they should go down 
together through the ages. — vii, 184. 

114 



It 

But when man abides in tents, after the Jt the sign 
manner of the early patriarchs, the face of the of the 
world is renewed. The vagaries of the clouds Green Tree 
become significant. You watch the sky with 
a lover's look, eager to know whether it will 
smile or frown. When you lie at night upon 
your bed of boughs and hear the rain patter- 
ing on the canvas close above your head, you 
wonder whether it is a long storm or only a 
shower. — xiii, 15. 



There is a beautiful legend in the Itinerary The dew of 
of St. Anthony. An old pilgrim narrates that, Hermon 
every morning at sunrise, a handful of dew 
floated down from Hermon and fell upon the 
Church of St. Mary, where it was immediately 
gathered by the Christian physicians, and was 
found a sovereign remedy for all diseases. 
What is this dew but the word of Jesus Christ ? 
" This is my commandment, that ye love 
one another." It falls from heaven upon the 
church But it is not meant for her refresh- 
ment alone. It is intended to be a cure for 
all the evils of society^ spreading from heart to 
heart, from land to land, until the last desert 
vanishes and the lost Paradise is regained.— 
I, 246. 

"5 



5ilugu^t fourtecntf) 

A whim of The theory that Adam lived out in the 
heredity woods for some time before he was put into 
the garden of Eden " to dress it and to keep 
it " has an air of probability. How else shall 
we account for the arboreal instincts that cling 
to his posterity ? 

There is a wilding strain in our blood that 
all the civilization in the world will not eradi- 
cate. I never knew a real boy — or, for that 
matter, a girl worth knowing — who would not 
rather climb a tree, any day, than walk up a 
golden stairway. — xiii, 84. 



3ilu5U^t fiftemtli 

Martin Do you remember Martin Luther's reason- 

Luther on ing on the subject of " excellent large pike " ? 
large pike He maintains that God would never have cre- 
ated them so good to the taste, if He had not 
meant them to be eaten. And for the same 
reason I conclude that this world would never 
have been left so full of uncertainties, nor hu- 
man nature framed so as to find a peculiar joy 
and exhilaration in meeting them bravely and 
cheerfully, if it had not been divinely intended 
that most of our amusement and much of our 
education should come from this source.— 



XIII, 10. 



116 



Slugu^t ^ijcteentl) 

The life of man is a demonstrated daily 
miracle. It shows that the physical laws 
which we know and the physical forces which 
we can measure, are traversed by spiritual laws 
which we do not know and spiritual forces 
which we cannot measure. It proves the 
reality and potency of that which is invisible 
and imponderable.— XII, 91. 



The daily 
miracle 



There is a peculiar pleasure in doing a thing Unexpected 
like this, catching trout in a place where no- fortune 
body thinks of looking for them, and at an 
hour when everybody believes they cannot be 
caught. It is more fun to take one good fish 
out of an old, fished-out stream, near at hand 
to the village, than to fill a basket from some 
far-famed and well-stocked water. It is the 
unexpected touch that tickles our sense of 
pleasure. While life lasts, we are always hop- 
ing for it and expecting it. There is no coun- 
try so civilized, no existence so humdrum, 
that there is not room enough in it somewhere 
for a lazy, idle brook, an encourager of indo- 
lence, with hope of happy surprises. — xiii, 
203, 

117 



Personal What is property, after all ? The xaw says 

property there are two kinds, real and personal. But 
it seems to me that the only real property is 
that which is truly personal, that which we 
take into our inner life and make our own for- 
ever, by understanding and admiration and 
sympathy and love. This is the only kind of 
possession that is worth anything.— xiii, 176. 



5tlu5U^t nineteentfi 

Theunfail' All the streams were larger in our boyhood 
ingfoun- than they are now, except, perhaps, that which 
tain flows from the sweetest spring of all, the foun- 

tain of love, which John Ridd discovered be- 
side the Bagworthy River, — and I, on the wil- 
low-shaded banks of the Patapsco, where the 
Baltimore girls fish for gudgeons — and you ? 
Come, gentle reader, is there no stream whose 
name is musical to you, because of a hidden 
spring of love that you once found on its shore ? 
The waters of that fountain never fail, and in 
them alone we taste the undiminished fulness 
of immortal youth. — xiii, 146. 

118 



Then come, my friend, forget your foes, and Luck 

leave your fears behind, enough 

And wander forth to try your luck, with ^i"^^- 

cheerful, quiet mind ; 
For be your fortune great or small, you'll take 

what God may give. 
And all the day your heart shall say, " 'Tis 

luck enough to live.''-— xiv, 68. 



Some day, I suppose, all things in the Mean- 
heavens above, and in the earth beneath, and while, let 
in the hearts of the men and women who us play 
dwell between, will be investigated and ex- 
plained. We shall live a perfectly ordered 
life, with no accidents, happy or unhappy. 
Everybody will act according to rule, and 
there will be no dotted lines on the map of 
human existence, no regions marked " unex- 
plored." Perhaps that golden age of the ma- 
chine will come, but you and I will hardly 
live to see it. And if that seem to you a 
matter for tears, you must do your own weep- 
ing, for I cannot find it in my heart to add a 
single drop of regret. — xiii, 88. 

119 



5llugu^t ttomtp:^^cconts 

What lies When I talk to you of fisherman's luck, I 

behind do not forget that there are deeper things be- 

fortune hind it. I remember that what we call our 

fortunes, good or ill, are but the wise dealings 
and distributions of a Wisdom higher, and a 
Kindness greater, than our own. And I sup- 
pose that their meaning is that we should 
learn, by all the uncertainties of our life, even 
the smallest, how to be brave and steady and 
temperate and hopeful, whatever comes, be-= 
cause we believe that behind it all there lies 
a purpose of good, and over it all there 
watches a providence of blessing. — xiii, 30. 



Stugu^t ttomtpr^tftirti 

Eoiv to If we can only come back to nature to- 

keep young gether every year, and consider the flowers 
forever and the birds, and confess our faults and mis- 
takes and our unbelief under these silent stars, 
and hear the river murmuring our absolution, 
we shall die young, even though we live long : 
we shall have a treasure of memories which 
will be like the twin-flower, always a double 
blossom on a single stem, and carry with us 
into the unseen world something which will 
make it worth while to be immortal. — vi, 276. 

120 



Slugu^t ttDentp^^^fourtl^ 

Favonlus has the good sense to talk about The salt of 
himself occasionally and tell his own experi- conver- 
ence. The man who will not do that must nation 
always be a dull companion. Modest egoism 
is the salt of conversation : you do not want 
too much of it ; but if it is altogether omitted, 
everything tastes flat. — vi, 133. 



3llu0U^t ttoentp::=eftft 

Every afternoon there were long walks An old 
with the Mistress in the old-fashioned garden, friend 
where wonderful roses were blooming ; or 
through the dark, fir-shaded den where the 
wild burn dropped down to join the river : or 
out upon the high moor under the waning 
orange sunset. Every night there were lumi- 
nous and restful talks beside the open fire in 
the library, when the words came clear and 
calm from the heart, unperturbed by the vain 
desire of saying brilliant things, which turns so 
much of our conversation into a combat of 
wits instead of an interchange of thoughts. 
Talk like this is possible only between two. 
The arrival of a third person sets the lists for 
a tournament, and offers the prize of appro- 
bation for a verbal victory. But where there 
are only two, the armour is laid aside, and 
there is no call to thrust and parry. — vi, 108. 

121 



The faith There is a new cry for a Christ who shall 

of a doubt- fulfil the hopes of all the ages. There is a 
ing age new love waiting for Him, a new devotion 

ready to follow His call. Doubt, in its nobler 
aspect — honest, unwilling, morally earnest 
doubt — has been a John the Baptist to pre- 
pare the way for His coming. The men of 
to-day are saying, as certain Greeks said of 
old, " Sirs, we would see Jesus." The dis- 
ciple who can lead the questioning spirits to 
Him, is the man who has the Gospel for an 
Age of Doubt. — VII, 40. 



"The King will follow Christ, and we the King. " 

The leader Compare this line with the words of St. 

as follower Paul: Be ye followers of me even as I also am 
of Christ. They teach us that the lasting 
devotion of men is rendered not to the human, 
but to the divine, in their heroes. He who 
would lead others must first learn to follow 
one who is higher than himself. Without 
faith it is not only impossible to please God^ 
but also impossible to rule men. — 11, 253. 

122 



august ttoentpr^eiglitfi 

Life Is an arrow — therefore you must know The arrow 
What mark to aim at, how to use the bow — 
Then draw it to the head, and let it go ! 

— IX, 65. 



Stugu^t ttoentp^nmtl) 

In talk it is not correctness of grammar nor A touch of 
elegance of enunciation that charms us ; it is the brogue 
spirit, verve^ the sudden turn of humour, the 
keen, pungent taste of life. For this reason 
a touch of dialect, a flavour of brogue, is de- 
lightful. Any dialect is classic that has con- 
veyed beautiful thoughts. Who that ever 
talked with the poet Tennyson, when he let 
himself go, over the pipes, would miss the 
savour of his broad-rolling Lincolnshire vow- 
els, now heightening the humour, now deepen- 
ing the pathos, of his genuine manly speech ? 
There are many good stories lingering in the 
memories of those who knew Dr. James Mc- 
Cosh, the late president of Princeton Uni- 
versity, — stories too good, I fear, to get into a 
biography ; but the best of them, in print, 
would not have the snap and vigour of the 
poorest of them, in talk, with his own inimi- 
table Scotch-Irish brogue to set it forth.— 
XIII, 67. 

123 



Slugu^t tf)irtietf) 

Hidden The forces that impel action reside in tem- 

forces perament. The ideals and convictions that 

guide it are hidden in the mind and heart. 
A man moves slowly or swiftly, he does his 
work weakly or strongly, according to the 
energy that is in him. But the direction of 
his life, this way or that way, follows the un- 
seen influence of what he admires and loves 
and believes in. — xxii, v. 

Slusu^t tftirtp^fit^t 

An open Christ says that it was a Samaritan, a man 

secret of property, riding on his own beast and car- 

rying a little spare capital in his pocket, who 
lifted up the wounded stranger, and gave him 
oil and wine, and brought him into a place of 
security, and paid for his support. And to 
everyone who hears the parable Christ says : 
" Go thou and do likewise." Here is the 
open secret of the regeneration of society in 
the form of a picture. 

If we want it in the form of a philosophy, 
we may get it from St. Paul in five words : 

" Let him that stole, steal no more " — that 
is reformation ; " but rather let him labour " 
— that is industry \ " working with his hands 
that which is good " — that is honesty \ " that 
he may have " — that is property ; " to give to 
him that needeth " — that is charity » — xxii, 
207. 

124 



Religion without a great hope would be The fire on 
like an altar without a living fire. — v, 13. the altar 



There the workman saw his labour taking The glory 
form and bearing fruit, of work 

Like a tree with splendid branches rising from 
a humble root. 

Looking at the distant city, temples, houses, 

domes, and towers, 
Felix cried in exultation : " All the mighty 

work is ours. 

" Every mason in the quarry, every builder on 
the shore, 

Every chopper in the palm-grove, every rafts- 
man at the oar — 

" Hewing wood and drawing water, splitting 

stones and cleaving sod — 
All the dusty ranks of labour, in the regiment 

of God, 

" March together toward His triumph, do the 

task His hands prepare : 
Honest toil is holy service ; faithful work is 

praise and prayer.*'— xiv, 17. 

125 



September tfjirtJ 

The lasting The one ideal that is pure and permanent 
ideal and satisfying, the one ideal that actually has 

had power to keep itself alive and prove itself 
victorious over the disintegrating forces of sin 
and death, is the ideal in Jesus Christ. The 
men and women who have built upon that 
foundation have been the best men and women, 
and have left behind them the most enduring 
and glorious work, even in the very domain 
where the human ideals have been erected as 
supreme. — iv, 250. 



.September fourtft 

hate There is a breath of fragrance on the cool 

blossoms shady air beside our little stream, that seems 
familiar. It is the first week of September. 
Can it be that the twin-flower of June, the 
delicate Linnaa horealis^ is blooming again ? 
Yes, here is the threadlike stem lifting its two 
frail pink bells above the bed of shining leaves. 
How dear an early flower seems when it 
comes back again and unfolds its beauty in a 
St. Martin's summer ! How delicate and 
suggestive is the faint, magical odour ! It is 
like a renewal of the dreams of youth. — vi> 
276. 

126 



September ftft& 

A settled, unchangeable, clearly foreseeable 
order of things does not suit our constitution. 
It tends to melancholy and a fatty heart. 
Creatures of habit we are undoubtedly ; but 
it is one of our most fixed habits to be fond 
of variety. The man who is never surprised 
does not know the taste of happiness, and 
unless the unexpected sometimes happen to 
us, we are most grievously disappointed.— 
XIII, 12. 



The vari- 
able order 



September ^ijctlj 

There are multitudes of people in the world 
to-day who are steering and sailing for Ophir, 
simply because it is the land of gold. What 
will they do if they reach their desired haven ? 
They do not know. They do not even ask 
the question. They will be rich. They will 
sit down on their gold. 

Let us look our desires squarely in the face ! 
To win riches, to have a certain balance in 
the bank, and a certain rating on the ex- 
change, is a real object, a definite object ; but 
it is a frightfully small object for the devotion 
of a human life, and a bitterly disappointing 
reward for the loss of an immortal soul. If 
wealth is our desired haven, we may be sure 
that it will not satisfy us when we reach it.^ 
VIII, 23. 

127 



What is 
wealth 
worth ? 



Vital My trust was not in princes; for the crown, 

power The sceptre, and the purple robe are not 

Significant of vital power. The man 
Who saves his brother-men is he who lives 
His life with Nature, takes deep hold on 

truth. 
And trusts in God. — xxviii, 425. 



September eigfjtli 

Home- I read within a poet's book 

sweet- A word that starred the page: 

home "Stone walls do not a prison make. 

Nor iron bars a cage I" 

Yes, that is true, and something more: 
You'll find, where'er you roam. 

That marble floors and gilded walls 
Can never make a home. 

But every house where Love abides, 
And Friendship is a guest, 

Is surely home, and home-sweet-home; 
For there the heart can rest. 

— XXVIII, 261. 

128 



^eptemBer nintl) 

« Every man is immortal until his work is Trust and 
done." So long as God has anything for us -^ork 
to do in the world He will take care of us 
and deliver us from danger. We may lay 
aside all anxiety and fear. We may rejoice 
in the stream of inward peace which makes 
glad the city of God. We may go forth to 
our labours and our conflicts with good cour- 
age and a cheerful heart. Be sure that noth- 
ing can harm you while you are with Him. — 
I, 142. 



All through the summer that is past, the Nature^ s 
sun has been shining and the rain has been generosity 
falling on the fields without regard to the 
moral or religious differences of their owners. 
There is no peculiar blessing on Protestant 
potatoes. The corn and pumpkins in the 
stingy farmer's fields are ripening just as 
surely and just as abundantly as those which 
have been planted and hoed by the most gen- 
erous of men. All you have to do is to sow 
the seed and till the soil, and Nature will do 
the rest without asking what manner of man 
you are.- — iv, 193. 

129 



^tpttxtibtt elebentl) 

TJl^e soul of Let us never be so foolish as to think that 
conduct it makes no difference whether we believe or 

not. Faith is the soul of conduct ; faith is 
the bloom, the breath, the vital power of re- 
ligion ; without it, virtue is the alabaster box, 
empty ; faith is the precious ointment whose 
fragrance fills the house. Therefore without 
faith it is impossible to please God. — iv, 47, 



J^eptemBer ttoelftlj 

ne sadness There is a sadness of youth into which the 
of youth old cannot enter. It seems to them unreal 
and causeless. But it is even more bitter and 
burdensome than the sadness of age. There 
is a sting of resentment in it, a fever of angry 
surprise that the world should so soon be a 
disappointment, and life so early take on the 
look of a failure. It has little reason in it, 
perhaps, but it has all the more weariness and 
gloom, because the man who is oppressed by 
it feels dimly that it is an unnatural and an 
unreasonable thing, that he should be sepa- 
rated from the joy of his companions, and 
tired of living before he has fairly begun to 
live. — XI, 4. 

130 



Let a man live now in the light of the Immortal- 
knowledge that he is to live forever. How ^O' 
it will deepen and strengthen the meaning 
of his existence, lift him above petty cares 
and ambitions, and make the things that are 
worth while precious to his heart ! Let him 
really set his affections on the spiritual side 
of life, let him endure afflictions patiently 
because he knows that they are but for a 
moment, let him think more of the soul than 
of the body, let him do good to his fellow- 
men in order to make them sharers of his 
immortal hope, let him purify his love and 
friendship that they may be fit for the heav- 
enly life. — XIX, 27. 



I remember an old woodsman in the Getting up 
Adirondack forest who used to say that he tnthe 
wanted to go to the top of a certain mountain ^ori^ 
as often as possible, because it gave him such 
a feeUng of " heaven-up-histedness. 1 hat 
is an uncouth, humble, eloquent phrase to 
describe the function of a great literature. 

" Unless above himself he can ^ 
Erect himself, how mean a thing is man ! 

— XXII, 170. 



M>tpttxxibtt ftftcentl) 

7^e glory The glory of our life below 

of life Comes not from what we do, or what we 

know, 
But dwells forevermore in what we are. 
There is an architecture grander far 
Than all the fortresses of war. 
More inextinguishably bright 
Than learning's lonely towers of light. 
Framing its walls of faith and hope and love 
In deathless souls of men, it lifts above 
The frailty of our earthly home 

An everlasting dome j 
The sanctuary of the human host, 
The living temple of the Holy Ghost. — ix, 84. 



The The thought of the Divine excellence and 

thought of beauty, how far it is exalted above us and yet 
^°^ how sweetly it shines upon us, how it belongs 

to the lofty and eternal sphere of heaven, but 
also to the lowly and familiar sphere of earth, 
how it rises like the sun, far away from us, 
and yet sheds its light and joy upon us and 
upon every living thing, — this is the most sub- 
lime, comforting, and elevating thought that 
can ever visit the soul. — i, 51. 

132 



The vision of God in Christ is the greatest Election to 
gift in the world. It binds those who receive service 
it to the highest and most consecrated Hfe. 
To behold that vision is to be one of God's 
elect. But the result of that election depends 
upon the giving of ourselves to serve the world 
for Jesus' sake. Noblesse oblige. — vil, 316. 

To desire and strive to be of some service The best 
to the world, to aim at doing something choice 
which shall really increase the happiness and 
welfare and virtue of mankind, — this is a 
choice which is possible for all of us ; and 
surely it is a good haven to sail for. 

The more we think of it, the more attrac- 
tive and desirable it becomes. To do some 
work that is needed, and to do it thoroughly 
well ; to make our toil count for something in 
adding to the sum total of what is actually 
profitable for humanity ; to make two blades 
of grass grow where one grew before, or, better 
still, to make one wholesome idea take root in 
a mind that was bare and fallow ; to make 
our example count for something on the side 
of honesty, and cheerfulness, and courage, 
and good faith, and love, — this is an aim for 
life which is very wide, as wide as the world, 
and yet very definite, as clear as light. — viii, 
26. 

133 



J^eptemfiei: nineteentft 

Poetry, After all, the true mission of poetry is to 

joy, and increase joy. It must, indeed, be sensitive to 

^^^ sorrow and acquainted with grief. But it has 

wings given to it in order that it may bear us 

up into the ether of gladness. 

There is no perfect joy without love. 
Therefore love-poetry is the best. But the 
highest of all love-poetry is that which cele- 
brates, with the Psalms, 

** that Love which is and was 
My Father and my Brother and my God." 

XV, 26. 

^cptcmfier ttoentietl) 

Faith and Life is self-change to meet environment. 

freedom Liberty is self-exertion to unfold the soul. 

The law of natural selection is that those who 
use a faculty shall expand it, but those who 
use it not shall lose it. Religion is life, and 
it must grow under the laws of life. Faith is 
simply the assertion of spiritual freedom ; it is 
the first adventure of the soul. Make that 
adventure towards God, make that adventure 
towards Christ, and the soul will know that 
it is alive. So it enters upon that upward 
course which leads through the liberty of the 
sons of God to the height of heaven, 

** Where love is an unerring light 
And joy its own security.'* 

— VII, 242. 



I do not mean to say that the possession of Rich and 
much money is always a barrier to real wealth poor 
of mind and heart. Nor would I maintain 
that all the poor of this world are rich in faith 
and heirs of the kingdom. But some of them 
are. And if some of the rich of this world 
(through the grace of Him with whom all 
things are possible) are also modest in their , 
tastes, and gentle in their hearts, and open in 
their minds, and ready to be pleased with un- 
bought pleasures, they simply share in the best 
things which are provided for all. — xiii, 177. 



^eptemBet ttoentp^^econti 

An honest, earnest, true heart ; a hand that Evidences 
will not stain itself with unjust gain, or hold of Chris- 
an unequal balance, or sign a deceitful letter, tianity, 
or draw an unfair contract ; a tongue that will 
not twist itself to a falsehood or take up an 
evil report ; a soul that points as true as a 
compass to the highest ideal of manhood or 
womanhood, — these are the marks and quali- 
ties of God's people everywhere. — i, 66. 

135 



The Bible 
as litera- 
ture 



J^eptemftei: ttoentp^tl^irb 

As the worshipper in the Temple would ob- 
serve the art and structure of the carven beams 
of cedar and the lily-work on the tops of the 
pillars the more attentively because they beau- 
tified the house of his God, so the man who 
has a religious faith in the Bible will study 
more eagerly and carefully the literary forms 
of the book in which the Holy Spirit speaks 
forever. — xv, 6. 



Talkabkf 
not talk- 
ative 



^eptemfier ttoentp^fourtfj 

A talkative person is like an English spar- 
row, — a bird that cannot sing, and will sing, 
and ought to be persuaded not to try to sing. 
But a talkable person has the gift that belongs 
to the wood-thrush and the veery and the 
wren, the oriole and the white-throat and the 
rose-breasted grosbeak, the mocking-bird and 
the robin (sometimes) ; and the brown thrush; 
yes, the brown thrush has it to perfection, if 
you can catch him alone, — the gift of being 
interesting, charming, delightful, in the most 
ofF-hand and various modes of utterance. — 
XIII, 57. 

136 



Music, in thee we float, Immortal 

And lose the lonely note music 

Of self in thy celestial-ordered strain, 

Until at last we find 

The life to love resigned 
In harmony of joy restored again ; 

And songs that cheered our mortal days 
Break on the coast of light in endless hymns 
of praise. — xx, 24. 



Look around you in the world and see The good 
what way it is that has brought your fellow- "^^y 
men to peace and quietness of heart, to se- 
curity and honour of life. Is it the way of 
unbridled self-indulgence, of unscrupulous 
greed, of aimless indolence? Or is it the 
way of self-denial, of cheerful industry, of 
fair dealing, of faithful service ? If true 
honour lies in the respect and grateful love of 
one's fellow-men, if true success lies in a 
contented heart and a peaceful conscience, 
then the men who have reached the highest 
goal of life are those who have followed most 
closely the way to which Jesus Christ points 
us and in which He goes before us. — xix, 

73- 

137 



Small Size is not the measure of excellence. 

packages Perfection lies in quality, not in quantity. 
Concentration enhances pleasure, gives it a 
point, so that it goes deeper. — xiii, 8 1. 



Tastes It was not necessary that everybody should 

<^iff^r take the same view of life that pleased us. 

The world would not get on very well with- 
out people who preferred parlour-cars to ca- 
noes, and patent-leather shoes to India-rubber 
boots, and ten-course dinners to picnics in the 
woods. These good people were uncon- 
sciously toiling at the hard and necessary work 
of life in order that we, of the chosen and 
fortunate few, should be at liberty to enjoy 
the best things in the world. 

Why should we neglect our opportunities, 
which were also our real duties ? The ner- 
vous disease of civilization might prevail all 
around us, but that ought not to destroy our 
grateful enjoyment of the lucid intervals that 
were granted to us by a merciful Providence. 
— xni, 190. 

138 



M>tpttmhtt ttumtp^nrntft 

All around the circle of human doubt and A stronger 
despair, where men and women are going faith 
out to enlighten and uplift and comfort and 
strengthen their fellow-men under the per- 
plexities and burdens of life, we hear the cry 
for a gospel which shall be divine, and there- 
fore sovereign and unquestionable and sure 
and victorious. All through the noblest as- 
pirations and efforts and hopes of our age of 
doubt, we feel the longing, and we hear the 
demand, for a new inspiration of Christian 
faith. — VII, 39. 



The day is coming when all shadows shall The com- 
depart and light be everywhere. The day is ing day 
coming when all rebellion shall cease and 
peace be everywhere. The day is coming 
when all sorrow shall vanish and joy be every- 
where. The day is coming when all discord 
shall be silent, and angels leaning from the 
battlements of heaven shall hear but one word 
encircling earth with music : — 

"All nations shall call him blessed." 

1, 126. 

139 



The sun- The shadow by my finger cast 

dial Divides the future from the past : 

Before it, sleeps the unborn hour 
In darkness, and beyond thy power : 
Behind its unreturning Hne, 
The vanished hour, no longer thine : 
One hour alone is in thy hands, — 
The NOW on which the shadow stands. 

— XX, 1 1 6. 



<©ctoBer ^cconli 

Inward Beyond the world of outward perception 

vision there is another world of inward vision, and 

the key to it is imagination. To see things 
as they are — that is a precious gift. To see 
things as they were in their beginning, or as 
they will be in their ending, or as they ought 
to be in their perfecting ; to make the ab- 
sent, present ; to rebuild the past out of a 
fragment of carven stone ; to foresee the 
future harvest in the grain of wheat in the 
sower's hand; to visualize the face of the in- 
visible, and enter into the lives of all sorts 
and conditions of unknown men — that is a 
far more precious gift. — xxii, 236. 

140 



Nothing in the world can so enlarge the Tbe op 



door 



heart and set its sympathies free to go out to 
all men as a true knowledge of Christ and a 
true devotion to Him. When we enter 
through Him into the secret of what real love 
means — when we learn from Him that it is 
not getting but giving, and that the heart finds 
its deepest joy in bestowing happiness upon 
others, then the door is open and we may go 
out and find pasture. — xviii, 12. 



(©ctoBer fourtf) 

There is a loftier ambition than merely to The gene*-- 
stand high in the world. It is to stoop down osity of true 
and lift mankind a little higher. There is a ^^^^^^ 
nobler character than that which is merely 
incorruptible. It is the character which acts 
as an antidote and preventive of corruption. 
Fearlessly to speak the words which bear 
witness to righteousness and truth and purity ; 
patiently to do the deeds which strengthen 
virtue and kindle hope in your fellow-men ; 
generously to lend a hand to those who are 
trying to climb upward ; faithfully to give 
your support and your personal help to the 
efforts which are making to elevate and purify 
the social life of the world — that is what it 
means to have salt in your character. — xviii, 

73- 

141 



<9ttobtt ftftfy 

The great Many beautiful poems, and some so noble 

elegy that they are forever illustrious, have blossomed 

in the valley of the shadow of death. But 
among them all none is more rich in signifi- 
cance, more perfect in beauty of form and 
spirit, or more luminous w^ith the triumph of 
light and love over darkness and mortality, 
than In Memoriam^ the greatest of English 
elegies. — ii, 131. 

#ctoBer ^ijctlj 

Tennyson From the misty shores of midnight, touched 
in Lucem with splendours of the moon, 

Transitusy To the singing tides of heaven, and the light 
October 6, more clear than noon, 

J6g2 Passed a soul that grew to music till it was 

with God in tune. 

Brother of the greatest poets, true to nature, 
true to art ; 

Lover of Immortal Love, uplifter of the hu- 
man heart ; 

Who shall cheer us with high music, who 
shall sing, if thou depart ? 

Silence here, — for love is silent, gazing on the 

lessening sail ; 
Silence here, — for grief is voiceless when the 

mighty poets fail ; 
Silence here, — but far beyond us, many voices 

crying. Hail! — ix, 35. 

142 



The record of a faith sublime, « in mg. 

And hope, through clouds, far-ofF dis- moriam^^ 
cerned ; 

The incense of a love that burned 
Through pain and doubt defying Time: 

A light that gleamed across the wave 

Of darkness, down the rolling years, 

Piercing the heavy mist of tears — 
A rainbow shining o'er the grave : 

The story of a soul at strife 

That learned at last to kiss the rod, 
And passed through sorrow up to God, 

From living to a higher life. — ix, 46. 

(©ctofiei: ei0{)tl^ 

If this age of ours, with its renaissance of 7-^^ ^^g 
art and its catholic admiration of the beautiful and the 
in all forms, classical and romantic ; with its poet 
love of science and its joy in mastering the 
secrets of Nature ; with its deep passion of 
humanity protesting against social wrongs and 
dreaming of social regeneration ; with its intro- 
spective spirit searching the springs of charac- 
ter and action ; with its profound interest in 
the problems of the unseen, and its reaction 
from the theology of the head to the religion 
of the heart, — if this age of ours is a great 
age, then Tennyson is a great poet, for he is 
the clearest, sweetest, strongest voice of the 
century.— II, 343. 

143 



Love a The various kinds of energy which are de- 

ivorking veloped from heat are not more real, nor more 

force powerful, than the actual working force which 

is developed in the world from love in the in- 



ner life of man. — xii, 



91. 



#cto&er tentft 

Faith an That is the law of the life of faith. The 

adventure man who takes a principle into his heart com- 
mits himself to an uncertainty, he enters upon 
an adventure. He must be ready for unex- 
pected calls and new responsibilities. 

The Samaritan who rode down from Jeru- 
salem to Jericho had nothing to do in the 
morning but follow that highway, and take 
care that his beast did not stumble or hurt it- 
self, or get tired out so that it could not finish 
the journey. He was just a solitary horseman, 
and all that he needed to do was to have a 
good seat in the saddle and a light hand on 
the bit. But at noon, when he came to the 
place where that unknown pilgrim lay sense- 
less and bleeding beside the road, — then, in a 
moment, the Samaritan's duty changed, and 
God called him to be a rescuer, a nurse, a 
helper of the wounded. — iv, 140. 

144 



<©cto6er elebentfi 

Sin is the separation of man from God. Home 

The sense of sin is God's unbroken hold thoughts 
upon the heart of man. ^^ ^/^r 

The sacrifices on myriad altars bear wit- ^^^^^O' 
ness to it. The prayers of penitence rising 
from all dark corners of the earth bear witness 
to it. The tremulous homeward turnings of 
innumerable souls from far countries of misery 
and loneliness bear witness to it. 

" Father, I have sinned against heaven and 
in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be 
called thy son ! " 

But mark, — he still says. Father ! — xii, 48. 

#cto6er ttoelftf) 

We do not dare to think that there is even Not one 
one forgotten, despised, disowned. God will ^forgotten 
not let us think so. With clear, sweet, but 
silent voice. He is assuring every child of 
man that the heavens above his head are not 
empty, but filled with the presence of a Di- 
vine Father, and that the earth beneath his 
feet is not a strange and desert place, but the 
soil of his own home, in which paternal 
bounty will make provision for his wants. 
Every ray of sunlight that falls from heaven, 
every drop of rain that waters the fruitful 
ground, is saying to the heart of man, " My 
child, this a Father's impartial kindness sends 
to thee." — IV, 200. 

145 



October tftitteentJ) 

Personal This is the true meaning of personal re- 

religion ligion : not merely that the faith and love and 

hope of the believer proceed from a personal 
source within himself and are independent of 
all outward circumstances, but that they cen- 
tre in a Personal Being, who has made us 
for Himself and bestows Himself upon us. 
And this truth finds its most perfect disclosure 
in the incarnation of Jesus Christ. — i, 105. 



Daily 

orders 



#cto6er fourteentl^ 

For the spiritual as truly as for the tempo- 
ral life the rule is, " Nothing venture, nothing 
win." And is it not infinitely nobler and 
more inspiring to enter upon a career like that, 
— a career which is to run so close to God 
that He can speak into it and fill it with new 
meanings, new possibilities, new tasks, at 
any moment, — is not that infinitely finer and 
more glorious than to make a contract to do 
a certain thing for a certain price, as if God 
were a manufacturer and we were his mill- 
hands ? It seems to me that this is the very 
proof and bond of friendship with Him, this 
calling of faith to an unlimited and undefined 
obedience. — iv, 142. 

146 



(©ctober fifteentfj 

We men that go down for a livin' in ships A sailor's 

to the sea, — love 

We love it a different way from you poets 

that 'bide on the land. 
We are fond of it, sure ! But, you take it 

as comin' from me. 
There's a fear and a hate in our love that 

a landsman can't understand. 

— XXXI, 32. 



O^ttotier siixteentfi 

Once, when I was hunting in the Bad American 
Lands of North Dakota, and had lost my humour 
way, I met a solitary horseman in the 
desert and said to him, "I want to go to 
the Cannon-ball River." *' Well, stranger,'* 
he answered, looking at m.e with a solemn 
air of friendly interest, "I guess ye can go 
if ye want to; there ain't no string on ye." 
But when I laughed and said what I really 
wanted was that he should show me the 
way, he replied, "Why didn't ye say so?'* 
and rode with me until we struck the trail 
to camp.- — XXVII, 270. 

147 



Trying to The effort after holiness always intensifies 

be good the consciousness of sin. The purest souls 

are those who cling most closely to God as 
their Redeemer and Helper. The doctrine of 
the forgiveness of sins and good hope through 
grace is most precious to those who are 
climbing upward, with painful steps, to seek 
the face of God. — i, 66. 



(©ctofier rigt)tctntf| 

Tah your The wild desire to be forever racing against 

time old Father Time is one of the kill-joys of 

modern life. That ancient traveller is sure to 
beat you in the long run, and as long as you 
are trying to rival him, he will make your life 
a burden. But if you will only acknowledge 
his superiority and profess that you do not 
approve of racing after all, he will settle down 
quietly beside you and jog along like the most 
companionable of creatures. It is a pleasant 
pilgrimage in which the journey itself is part 
of the destination. — vi, 125. 

148 



(©ctoBer ninetccntl) 

Not otherwise does God deal with us. He Daily 
does not show us exactly what it will cost to sacrifice 
obey Him. He asks us only to give what He 
calls for from day to day. Here is one sacrifice 
right in front of us that we must make now 
in order to serve God, — some evil habit to be 
given up, some lust of the flesh to be crucified 
and slain ; and that is our trial for to-day. — 
IV, 136. 



(©ctoBer ttomtietl) 

The perfect manhood of Him whom all The home 
Christendom adores as the Son of God was 
matured and moulded in the tender shelter of 
the home. It was there that He felt the in- 
fluences of truth and grace. To that source 
we may trace some of the noblest qualities of 
His human character. And yet, if there is 
anything which Christendom appears to be in 
danger of losing, it is the possibility of such a 
home as that in which Jesus grew to the meas- 
ure of the stature of the fulness of Christ. 

Is it not true ? 

** The world is too much with us, late and soon, 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." 

^III, 232. 

149 



(©ctofier ttoentp^^fit^t 

The Be Thou our strength when war's wild gust 

fortress Rages around us, loud and fierce ; 

Confirm our souls and let our trust 
Be like a wall that none can pierce; 

Give us the courage that prevails, 

The steady faith that never fails, 

Help us to stand in every fight 

Firm as a fortress to defend the right. — ix, 86. 



Conflicts With the materialism, the sensuality, the 

and pride of our age, Christianity stands in con- 

alliances flict. With the altruism, the humanity, the 
sympathy of our age, Christianity must stand 
in loving and wise alliance. A simpler creed 
and a nobler life will prepare the way for a 
renaissance of religion greater and more potent 
than the world has known for centuries. It 
seems as if we stood on the brightening bor- 
der of the new day. The watchword of its 
coming is the personal gospel of Jesus Christ, 
in whom we find the ideal man and the real 
Go4. — vii, xi. 

150 



<©cto6er ttoentp^^tfjirti 

When you have good luck in anything, you Gladness is 
ought to be glad. Indeed, if you are not glad, good luck 
you are not really lucky. — xiii, 27. 



<©ctoBer ttocntp:^fouttI) 

You have half forgotten many a famous 
scene that you travelled far to look upon. 
You cannot clearly recall the sublime peak of 
Mont Blanc, the roaring curve of Niagara, 
the vast dome of St. Peter's. The music of 
Patti's crystalline voice has left no distinct 
echo in your remembrance, and the blossom- 
ing of the century-plant is dimmer than the 
shadow of a dream. But there is a nameless 
valley among the hills where you can still trace 
every curve of the stream, and see the foam- 
bells floating on the pool below the bridge, 
and the long moss wavering in the current. 
There is a rustic song of a girl passing through 
the fields at sunset, that still repeats its far-off 
cadence in your listening ears. There is a 
small flower trembling on its stem in some 
hidden nook beneath the open sky, that never 
withers through all the changing years; the 
wind passeth over it, but it is not gone — it 
abides forever in your soul, an amaranthine 
word of beauty and truth. — vi, 105. 

151 



Little 
Memories 



(©ctoBet ttoentp^ftftft 

Life and " What means the voice of Life ? " She an- 

love swered, " Love ! 

For love is life, and they who do not love 
Are not alive. But every soul that loves, 
Lives in the heart of God and hears Him 
speak." — XIV, 53. 

#cto6ci: ttomtp:^^ijctlj 

The name John turned to Hermas, and his tone soft- 

of peace ened as he said: "My son, you have smned 
deeper than you know. The word with which 
you parted so lightly is the keyword of all life 
and joy and peace. Without it the world has 
no meaning, and existence no rest, and death 
no refuge. It is the word that purifies love, 
and comforts grief, and keeps hope alive for- 
ever. It is the most precious thing that ever 
ear has heard, or mind has known, or heart 
has conceived. It is the name of Him who 
has given us life and breath and all things 
richly to enjoy ; the name of Him who, though 
we may forget Him, never forgets us ; the 
name of Him who pities us as you pity your 
suffering child ; the name of Him who, though 
we wander far from Him, seeks us in the wil- 
derness, and sent His Son, even as His Son 
has sent me this night, to breathe again that 
forgotten name in the heart that is perishing 
without it. Listen, my son, listen with all 
your soul to the blessed name of God our 
Father." — xi, 69. 

153 



That Christ's mission was one of joy and Christians 
peace needs no proof. The New Testament ty means 
is a book that throbs and glows with inex- j^y 
pressible gladness. It is the one bright spot 
in the literature of the first century. The 
Christians were the happiest people in the 
world. Poor, they were rich ; persecuted, 
they were exultant ; martyred, they were vic- 
torious. The secret of Jesus, as they knew 
it, was a blessed secret. It filled them with 
the joy of living. Their watchword was, 
"Rejoice and be exceeding glad." — xii, loi. 



(©ctoBer ttoentp^rigf^tl) 

Remember that in this world every moun- 
tain-top of privilege is girdled by the vales of 
lowly duty. 

Remember that the transfiguration of the 
soul is but the preparation and encouragement 
for the sacrifice of the life» 

Remember that we are not to tarry in the 
transitory radiance of Mount Hermon, but 
to press on to the enduring glory of Mount 
Zion, and that we can only arrive at that 
final and blessed resting-place by the way of 
Mount Calvary. — iv, 189. 

153 



The moun- 
tain and 
the valley 



Finding a A theory of friendship is a good thing for 
friend you to have. It is precious. It elevates and 

cheers your mind. But presently, as you go 
on your way through the world, you find a 
friend : one who comes close to you in that 
mysterious contact of personalities which is 
the most wonderful thing in the world ; one 
who knows you, cares for you, loves you, 
gives you the sacred gifts of fellowship and 
help. Trouble befalls you. Your friend 
stands by you, strengthens you, counsels you, 
helps you to fight your way out of that which 
is conquerable and to endure patiently that 
which is inevitable. — xviii, 126. 



Friendship And now your theories of friendship are 
realised in translated into your thoughts of your friend. 
a person They are clarified, corrected it may be, puri- 
fied and intensified if your experience is a 
deep and true one ; at all events, they are 
transformed into something very diff'erent 
from what they were before. Once you 
reasoned about them ; now you feel them. 
Once they belonged to your philosophy ; now 
they belong to your life. Once you believed 
in friendship ; now you trust your friend. — 
xviil, 126. 

154 



Are you richer to day than you were yes- " En voy 
terday ? No ? Then you are a little poorer, age " 
Are you better to-day than you were yester- 
day ? No ? Then you are a little worse. 
Are you nearer to your port to-day than you 
were yesterday ? Yes,— you must be a little 
nearer to some port or other ; for since your 
ship was first launched upon the sea of life, 
you have never been still for a single mo- 
ment ; the sea is too deep, you could not find 
an anchorage if you would ; there can be no 
pause until you come into port. — viii, ii. 



The things that are revealed belong unto Not wide, 
us and to our children forever, — is not that but deep ' 
what our hearts desire and crave ? A religion 
which shall really belong to us, be a part of 
us, enter into us, abide with us, and not with 
us only, but with our children, forever. Not 
many doctrines, but solid. It need not be 
very wide, but it must be very deep. It must 
go down to the bottom of our hearts and 
dwell th^re as a living certainty. — iv, 231. 

155 



A hoveni' 
ber daisy 



Once the daisies gold and white 
Sea-like through the meadows rolled : 
Once my heart could hardly hold 
All its pleasures, — I remember, 
In the flood of youth's delight 
Separate joys were lost to sight. 
That was summer ! Now November 
Sets the perfect flower apart ; 
Gives each blossom of the heart 
Meaning, beauty, grace unknown, — 
Blooming late and all alone. 

— XIV, 76* 



Gratitude The inspiration of the service that we 

in religion render in this world to our homes, our coun- 
try, our fellow-men, springs from the recog- 
nition that a price has been paid for us ; the 
vital power of noble conduct rises from the 
deep fountain of gratitude, which flows not 
with water, but with warm heart's-blood. 
How then, shall a like power come into our 
religion, how shall it be as real, as living, as 
intimate, as our dearest human tie, unless we 
know and feel that God has paid a price for 
us, that He has bought us with His own 
precious life ? — iv, 116. 

156 



I^ofaemtier fourth 

The Psalms are rightly called lyrics because Poetry , the 
they are chiefly concerned with the immediate flower of 
and imaginative expression of real feeling. It ^^^^ ^if^ 
is the personal and emotional note that pre- 
dominates. They are inward, confessional, 
intense ; outpourings of the quickened spirit ; 
self-revelations of the heart. It is for this 
reason that we should never separate them in 
our thought from the actual human life out 
of which they sprang. We must feel the 
warm pulse of humanity in them in order to 
comprehend their meaning and eternal worth. 
So far as we can connect them with the actual 
experience of men, this will help us to appre- 
ciate their reality and power. — xv, 15. 



" Public office is a public trust." The dis- The service 
charge of duty to one's fellow-men, the work of man, the 
of resisting violence and maintaining order 'worship of 
and righting the wrongs of the oppressed, is 
higher and holier than the following of visions. 
The service of man is the best worship of 
God. — II, 178. 

157 



Gifts of The results of education and social disci-- 

nature pline in humanity are fine. It is a good thing 

that we can count upon them. But at the 
same time let us rejoice in the play of native 
traits and individual vagaries. Cultivated 
manners are admirable, yet there is a sudden 
touch of inborn grace and courtesy that goes 
beyond them all. No array of accomplish- 
ments can rival the charm of an unsuspected 
gift of nature, brought suddenly to light. I 
once heard a peasant girl singing dow^n the 
Traunthal, and the echo of her song outlives, 
in the hearing of my heart, all memories of 
the grand opera. — xiii, 88. 



Wishes As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he, 

mould our and so is his world. For those whose thoughts 
world are earthly and sensual, this is a beast's world. 

For those whose thoughts are high and noble 
and heroic, it is a hero's world. The strength 
of wishes transforms the very stuff of our exist- 
ence, and moulds it to the form of our heart's 
inmost desire and hope. — viii, 35. 

158 



The Christ of the Gospels Is bone of our 
bone, flesh of our flesh, mind of our mind, 
heart of our heart. He is in subjection to 
His parents as a child. He grows to man- 
hood. His character is unfolded and per- 
fected by discipline. He labours for daily 
bread, and prays for Divine grace. He hun- 
gers, and thirsts, and sleeps, and rejoices, and 
weeps. He is anointed with the Spirit for 
His ministry. He is tempted. He is lonely 
and disappointed. He asks for information. 
He confesses ignorance. He interprets the 
facts of nature and life with a prophetic in- 



Tbe human 
life of God 



sight.- 



-VII, 



144. 



Anything that a telescope could discover 
among the stars, anything that logic could 
define and explain and fit into an exact philo- 
sophical system, would not be God. For it 
belongs to His very essence that He transcends 
our thought, and that His judgments are un- 
searchable and His ways past finding out. We 
do not know anything about God unless we 
know that we cannot know Him perfectly.^ 
IV, 216. 

159 



The divine 

mystery 



I^obemtier tentj) 

The joy of Jesus does not differ from other masters in 
living that He teaches us to scorn earthly felicity. 

The divine difference is that He teaches us 
how to attain earthly felicity, under all cir- 
cumstances, in prosperity and in adversity, 
in sickness and in health, in solitude and in 
society, by taking His yoke upon us, and 
doing the will of God, and so finding rest 
unto our souls. That is the debt which every 
child of God owes not only to God, but also 
to his own soul, — to find the real joy of living. 
— -VII, 293. 



Love leads The truth is that love, considered merely 
^n as the preference of one person for another of 

the opposite sex, is not " the greatest thing in 
the world." It becomes great only when it 
leads on, as it often does, to heroism and self- 
sacrifice and fidelity. Its chief value for art 
(the interpreter) lies not in itself, but in its 
quickening relation to the other elements of 
life. It must be seen and shown in its due 
proportion, and in harmony with the broader 
landscape. — xiii, 102. 

160 



l^otoemBer ttDelftli 

Nay, I wrong you, little flower, 
Reading mournful mood of mine 
In your looks, that give no sign 
Of a spirit dark and cheerless : 
You possess the heavenly power 
That rejoices in the hour. 
Glad, contented, free, and fearless,— 
Lifts a sunny face to heaven 
When a sunny day is given ; 
Makes a summer of its own. 
Blooming late and all alone. — xiv, 75, 



St. Mar- 
tin's little 
summer 



Men have assured us, in these latter days, Art and 
that faith and art have parted company ; that f^ith 
faith is dead, and art must live for itself alone. 
But while they were saying these things in 
melancholy essays and trivial verses, which 
denied a spiritual immortality and had small 
prospect of a literary one, the two highest 
artists of the century, Tennyson and Brown- 
ing, were setting their music to the key-note 
of an endless life, and prophesying with the 
harp, according as it is written : / believe^ and 
therefore sing, — ll, 301. 

161 



I^obemfier fourteentf) 

In quiet- This fair tree that shadows us from the 

ness a7ia sun hath grown many years in its place with- 
conjidence Qy^- more unhappiness than the loss of its 
leaves in winter, which the succeeding season 
doth generously repair ; and shall we be less 
contented in the place where God hath 
planted us ? or shall there go less time to the 
making of a man than to the growth of a 
tree ? This stream floweth wimpling and 
laughing down to the great sea which it 
knoweth not ; yet it doth not fret because the 
future is hidden ; and doubtless it were wise 
in us to accept the mysteries of life as cheer- 
fully and go forward with a merry heart, 
considering that we know enough to make us 
happy and keep us honest for to-day. A 
man should be well content if he can see so 
far ahead of him as the next bend in the 
stream. What lies beyond, let him trust in 
the hand of God. — xvi, 129. 



I^obemficr fiftcenti) 

One mark It is one mark of a good friend that he 

of a good makes you wish to be at your best while you 
friend are with him. The blessed persons who 

have this influence are made in the likeness 
of that heavenly Friend whose presence is at 
once a stimulus and a help to purity of heart 
and nobleness of demeanor. — xviii, 141. 

162 



To my mind the most beautiful of all the ** How 
references to the New Testament is the pas- fares it 
sage in In Memoriam which describes the re- with the 
union of Mary and Lazarus after his return happy 
from the grave. With what a human interest "^^« -^ 
does the poet clothe the familiar story ! How 
reverently and yet with what natural and sim- 
ple pathos does he touch upon the more inti- 
mate relations of the three persons who are 
the chief actors ! The question which has 
come a thousand times to every one that has 
lost a dear friend, — the question whether love 
survives in the other world, whether those who 
have gone before miss those who are left be- 
hind and have any knowledge of their grief, — 
this is the suggestion which brings the story 
home to us and makes it seem real and living. 
— II, 258. 

I^DbemBer ^ebenteentli 

The true lover of the Bible has an interest The Bible 
in all the elements of its life as an immortal many-sided 
book. He wishes to discern, and rightly to 
appreciate, the method of its history, the spirit 
of its philosophy, the significance of its fiction, 
the power of its eloquence, and the charm of 
its poetry. He wishes this all the more because 
he finds in it something which is not in any 
other book : a vision of God, a hope for man, 
and an inspiration to righteousness which are 
evidently divine. — xv, 6. 

163 



I^obemfier eigf^teentf) 

When men When a Christian means one whose word 
live as they is his bond, who can be trusted with untold 
pray treasure without fear of his stealing, whose 

praise is an honour and whose friendship is a 
jewel of priceless value ; one who does his 
duty towards his fellow-men as a service to his 
God ; one whom you can more certainly trust 
to paint your house, or make your clothes, or 
draw your will, or take care of the health of 
your family, because he is a Christian ; one 
whose outward integrity is the proof of in- 
ward purity, — then the church will have great 
praise and large triumph. — i, 66. 



l^obemBet nineteenth 

Solomon^ s If God says to us, in the bright promise of 

choice youth, " Ask what I shall give thee," let us 

make the best choice, and answer, " Give me 
grace to know thy Son, the Christ, and to 
grow like Him ; for that is the true wisdom 
which leads to eternal life, and that is the true 
royalty which brings dominion over self, and 
that is the true happiness which flows un- 
sought from fellowship with the Divine Life." 
— IV, 165. 

164 



l^obemBet ttoentietl^ 

Christ Is the Light of all Scripture. Christ The source 
is the Master of holy reason. Christ is the of author- 
sole Lord and Life of the true Church. By ^0' 
His word we test all doctrines, conclusions, 
and commands. On His word we build all 
faith. This is the source of authority in the 
kingdom of heaven. Let us neither forget 
nor hesitate to appeal to it always with un- 
trembling certainty and positive conviction. — 
viij 199. 



To be sure of God, most wise, most Concen- 
mighty, most holy, most loving, our Father tr ate your 
in heaven and on earth ; to be sure of Christ, f^^^^ 
divine and human, our Brother and our 
Master, the pattern of excellence and the 
Redeemer from sin, the Saviour of all who 
trust in Him ; to be sure of the Holy Spirit, 
the Comforter, the Guide, the Purifier, given 
to all who ask for Him ; to be sure of im- 
mortality, an endless life in which nothing 
can separate us from the love of God, — let us 
concentrate our faith upon these things. — iv, 
231. 

i6s 



The When the logs are burning free, 

hearthstone Then the fire is full of glee : 

When each heart gives out its best. 
Then the talk is full of zest : 
Light your fire and never fear, 
Life vi^as made for love and cheer. 

—XX, 113, 



l^obemBet ttoentp^tl)it& 

A giver The strongest impulse in his nature was 

of joy to be a giver of entertainment, a source of joy 

in others, a recognized element of delight in 
the little vi^orld where he moved. He had the 
artistic temperament in its most primitive and 
naive form. Nothing pleased him so much 
as the act of pleasing. Music was the 
means which Nature had given him to fulfil 
this desire. He played, as you might say, 
out of a certain kind of selfishness, because 
he enjoyed making other people happy. He 
was selfish enough, in his way, to want the 
pleasure of making everybody feel the same 
delight that he felt in the clear tones, the 
merry cadences, the tender and caressing flow 
of his violin. — xvi, 33. 

166 



^ohtmhtv ttdentj>=fourtfi 

This was all that we saw of the wedding Wedding 
at Kafr Kenna — just a vivid, mysterious at Cana 
flash of human figures, drawn together by 
the primal impulse and longing of our 
common nature, garbed and ordered by 
the social customs which make different 
lands and ages seem strange to each other, 
and moving across the narrow stage of 
Time into the dimness of that Arab village, 
where Jesus and His mother and His dis- 
ciples were guests at a wedding long ago. 

— XXVI, 238. 

^obemlier tU)entj>=fifti) 

Whatever gifts and mercies to my lot may Gratitude 
fall, 

I would not measure 
As worth a certain price in praise, or great 
or small; 
But take and use them all with simple 
pleasure. 

For when we gladly eat our daily bread, 
we bless 

The Hand that feeds us; 
And when we tread the road of Life in 
cheerfulness. 
Our very heart-beats praise the Love 
that leads us. 

— XXVIII, 315. 
167 



The sun Behind every manifestation of spiritual life 

behind the there is the Spirit. Behind Christianity there 
sunlight is Christ. Behind Christ there is God. For 
He is the brightness of the Father's glory, 
and the express image of his person ; and the 
power that works in Him, the power that has 
raised Him from the dead and set Him at 
God's right hand in heavenly places, is the 
power that is saving every one that believeth, 
and reconciling the world to God. When 
we know that, despair ceases to exist, and joy 
fills the heart with music. — iv, 94. 



Unseen There are many noble principles and beau- 

foundations tiful characters unconsciously built upon a 
Christian foundation, laid by a mother's 
prayers, a father's example, though the build- 
er may not know or acknowledge it. Yes, 
there are even larger edifices, societies, na- 
tions, it may be, which are unconsciously 
based upon the moral ideal which is in Christ, 
and which silently acknowledge Christianity 
as the law of laws, even though God be not 
named in their constitution. They are like 
the villages in Egypt which were unwittingly 
erected upon the massive foundations of some 
ancient temple. — iv, 247. 

168 



But how close together are the fountains of The sadness 
grief and gladness ! How often the flood of of festivah 
tears mingles with the stream of rejoicing! 
The festival which is all brightness to the 
young, brings to the old, memories of loss and 
sadness. Christmas and Thanksgiving Day, 
with all their merriment and laughter, awaken 
echoes in the house, in the heart, which whis- 
per " Nevermore ; " and the joy of the pres- 
ent seems to fade and grow dull compared 
with the joy that has departed. The past wins 



** A glory from its being far, 
And orbs Into the perfect star 
We saw not when we moved therein." 



207. 



There are many kinds of love, as many kinds Loving up- 
of light, ^^'■^•^ 

And every kind of love makes a glory in the 
night. 

There is love that stirs the heart, and love that 
gives it rest, 

But the love that leads life upward is the no- 
blest and the best. — ix, 52. 

169 



I^obemfier tljirtietl) 

Two paths There are two paths In love and friendship. 
One leads downward, with pride and folly, 
selfishness and lust as guides, toward the 
earthly, the sensual, and at last the devilish. 
The other leads upward, with purity and 
honour, generosity and self-sacrifice as guides, 
toward the celestial, the ideal, the God-like. 
Love is a fire ; sometimes it kindles a harbor 
light to guide the heart to peace ; sometimes 
it kindles a false beacon to lure the heart 
to wreck. There is a friendship which 
saves, and there is a friendship which ruins. 
— XVIII, 32. 



2D0cemJicr fir^t 

The only I believe in a church which goes out, 

real heaven through Christ and with Christ, to seek and 
begins on to save the lost. I believe in a Christianity 
earth which is a giving, forgiving, sympathizing, 

sacrificing, self-forgetting, and happy life of 
ministry to the souls of others. And I be- 
lieve that the perfection and everlasting con- 
tinuance of that life is the joy of heaven. 

" Rejoice, we are allied 
To that which doth provide 
And not partake, effect and not receive j 
A spark disturbs our clod — 
Nearer we held of God 
Who gives, than of his tribes that take, I must believe." 

— XVIII, 14. 

170 



And now that his story is told, what does 
it mean ? 

How can I tell ? What does life mean ? 
If the meaning could be put into a sentence 
there would be no need of telling the story. 
— V, xii. 



TJhe mean' 
ing and the 
story 



2DecemBet tljitti 

You tell me that it matters not whether the 
hand that guides the plough be pure and clean, 
or wicked and defiled. Nature feels alike and 
will do alike for both. I say. Not if God is be- 
hind Nature, not if Nature is the expression of 
his will. He may do alike, but He does not feel 
alike. As well say that He who made light 
and darkness cannot distinguish between 
them, as that He whose will is the moral law 
ever forgets it, ignores it, casts it aside, in any 
sphere or mode of his action. Evermore He 
loves the good, the true, the noble. Ever- 
more He hates the base, the false, the evil 
Evermore iniquity is an abomination unto 
Him, and righteousness is his delight. — iv, 197, 

171 



Nature is 
impartial^ 
but God 



cares 



Wtttmhtt fourtlj 

Visions for We are on a path which leads upward, by 
guidance sure and steady steps, when we begin to look 
at our future selves with eyes of noble hope 
and clear purpose, and see our figures climb- 
ing, with patient, dauntless effort, towards the 
heights of true manhood and womanhood. 
Visions like these are Joseph's dreams. They 
are stars for guidance. They are sheaves of 
promise. The very memory of them, if we 
cherish it, is a power of pure restraint and 
generous inspiration. — viii, 30. 



2DecemBer ftftft 

The spirit The moment we see God behind the face 

behind the of Nature, — the moment we believe that this 
face vast and marvellous procession of seasons 

and causes and changes, this array of inter- 
working forces, is directed and controlled by 
a Supreme, Omniscient, Holy Spirit, whose 
will is manifest in the springing of the seed, 
the ripening of the fruit, the fading of the 
leaf, the shining of the sun, and the falling of 
the rain, — this indifference becomes incom- 
prehensible and impossible. It cannot be that 
God is indifferent. It cannot be that He 
cares not whether the dwellers upon his earth 
are wicked or righteous, foul or pure, selfish 
or generous. — iv, 196. 

172 



U>tttmbtt &txt^ 

To see Christ as the true Son of God and Sure of 

the brother of all men, is to be sure that the three 

soul is free, and that God is good, and that things 
the end of life is noble service. — vii, xvi. 



2DecemBer ^ebentfi 

Here are two women going down to work A differ- 
among the sick and the poor. One goes enceingood 
because there is a fashion of it, because she deeds 
would fain have the credit which belongs to 
the lady bountiful. She moves among them 
like an iceberg, and they hate her. She brings 
a chill with her which all her coals and blank- 
ets can never warm away., The other goes 
because she believes in it, believes that God 
wants her to do it, believes that the sorrow- 
ful and the distressed are Christ's brethren, 
and that she is bound to them, and that they 
have immortal souls which she may win for 
Him. She moves among them like a sister 
of Jesus and a friend of God ; and of her the 
Master says, " Inasmuch as she hath done it 
unto one of the least of these my brethren, 
she hath done it unto me." — iv, 46. 

173 



2Decem6er tigfyt^ 

Into wiser For what is it that faith does with these 

hands lives of ours ? It just takes them up out of 

our weak, trembling, uncertain control and 
puts them into the hands of God. It makes 
them a part of his great plan. It binds them 
fast to his pure and loving will, and fills them 
with his life. — iv, 131. 



A word of Hear the Master's risen word ! 
Jesus Delving spades have set it free, — 

Wake ! the world has need of thee, — 
Rise, and let thy voice be heard. 
Like a fountain disinterred. 

Upward springing, singing, sparkling; 
Through the doubtful shadows darkling ; 
Till the clouds of pain and rage 
Brooding o'er the toiling age. 
As with rifts of light are stirred 
By the music of the Word ; 
Gospel for the heavy-laden, answer to the 

labourer's cry ; 
" Raise the stone ^ and thou shalt find Me .* 
cleave the wood^ and there am /." 

—XIV, 5. 

174 



2Decem6er tentl^ 

Is there anything that pleases you more than The joy of 
to be trusted, — to have even a little child look being 
up into your face, and put out its hand to trusted 
meet yours, and come to you confidingly ? 
By so much as God is better than you are, by 
so much more does He love to be trusted. 
. There is a hand stretched out to 
you, — a hand v^ith a wound in the palm of it. 
Reach out the hand of your faith to clasp it, 
and cling to it, for without faith it is impossi- 
ble to please God. — iv, 48. 



SDecemBnr elebentfi 

The humanity of Jesus was not the veil- 
ing but the unveiling of the divine glory. 
The limitations, temptations, and sufferings 
of manhood were the conditions under which 
alone Christ could accomplish the greatest 
work of the Deity, — the redemption of a sin- 
ful race. The seat of the divine revelation 
and the centre of the divine atonement was 
and is the human life of God. — vii, 149. 

175 



The hu' 

manity of 
Jesus 



2Decem6er ttoelftlj 

Life Let me but live my life from year to year, 

With forward face and unreluctant soul ; 
Not hurrying to, nor turning from, the goal j 
Not mourning for the things that disappear 
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear 
From what the future veils ; but with a 

whole 
And happy heart, that pays its toll 
To Youth and Age, and travels on with cheer. 

So let the way wind up the hill or down. 
O'er rough or smooth, the journey will be 

joy: 

Still seeking what I sought when but a boy, 

New friendship, high adventure, and a crown, 

My heart will keep the courage of the quest. 

And hope the road's last turn will be the best. 

— XX, 50. 



SDecemtier tl^irteentf) 

Be yourself Individualism is a fatal poison. But indi- 
viduality is the salt of common life. You 
may have to live in a crowd, but you do not 
have to live like it, nor subsist on its food. 
You may have your own orchard. You may 
drink at a hidden spring. Be yourself if you 
would serve others. — xxi, 33. 

176 



2Decem6er fourtecnti) 

The sense of sin, is not by any means a Pain, a 
hopeless thing. It is an evidence of life, in proof of life, 
its very pain ; of enlightenment, in its very 
shame ; of nearness to God, in its very hu- 
miliation before Him. — xii, 34. 



SDecemBer fiftcentli 

We must ask if we would receive, we must The in- 
seek if we would find. We must knock if stinct of 
we desire to have the door of heaven opened prayer 
to us. 

Prayer is something that no man can un- 
derstand ; there is a mystery about it. We 
cannot explain how the voice of a mortal 
creature should have any influence upon the 
immortal God ; how there should be any con- 
nection between the supplications which are 
wrung from our hearts by the pressure of want 
and danger and the fulfilment of those vast 
designs which have been formed from all 
eternity. But however that may be, prayer 
is an instinct of the human heart, and the re- 
ligion which did not provide for it would be 
no religion at all. — i, 198. 

177 



J^ecemlier siixteentfi 

Petrified We often fancy, in this world, that beau- 

joy tiful and pleasant things would satisfy us 

better if they could be continued, without 
change, forever. We regret the ending of 
a good 'day off.' We are sorry to be 'com- 
ing out of the woods' instead of 'going in/ 
And that regret is perfectly natural and 
all right. It is part of the condition on 
which we receive our happiness. The mis- 
take lies in wishing to escape from it by a 
petrification of our joys. The stone forest 
in Arizona will never decay, but it is no 
place for a man to set up his tents forever. 

—XXV, 317. 



JDecemfter s;ebenteentf) 

A new It was in the quest of this Jesus, in the 

vision hope of somehow drawing nearer to Him, 

that we made our pilgrimage to the Holy 
Land. And now, in the cool of the eve- 
ning at Caesarea Philippi, we ask ourselves 
whether our desire has been granted, our 
hope fulfilled ? 

Yes, more richly, more wonderfully than 
we dared to dream. For we have found a 
new vision of Christ, simpler, clearer, more 
satisfying, in the freedom and reality of 
God's out-of-doors. — xxvi, 285. 

178 



2Deccm6cr ei0l)teentl) 

Are you willing to stoop down and con-- Christmas 
sider the needs and the desires of little chil- coming 
dren ; to remember the weakness and loneli- 
ness of people who are growing old ; to stop 
asking how much your friends love you, and 
ask yourself whether you love them enough ; 
to bear in mind the things that other people 
have to bear on their hearts ; to try to under- 
stand what those who live in the ^same house 
with you really want, without waiting for 
them to tell you ; to trim your lamp so that 
it will give more light and less smoke, and to 
carry it in front so that your shadow will fall 
behind you ; to make a grave for your ugly 
thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feel- 
ings, with the gate open — are you willing to 
do these things even for a day ? Then you 
can keep Christmas. — xxiii, 47. 



2Dcccni6cr nineteentlj 

In the outer circles, cheerful greetings, Christmas- 

courtesy, consideration ; in the inner circles, lining is 

sympathetic interest, hearty congratulations, Christmas-- 

honest encouragement ; in the inmost circle, S^^^"S 
comradeship, helpfulness, tenderness, — 

** Beautiful friendship tried by sun and wind 
Durable from the daily dust of life." 

After all, Christmas-living is the best kind 
of Christmas-giving. — xxiii, 40. 

179 



Wtttmbct ttoentietf) 

0/?<? siJe of " Look you, my friends," said Winfried, 
religion " how sweet and peaceful is this convent to- 

night, on the eve of the nativity of the Prince 
of Peace ! It is a garden full of flowers in 
the heart of winter ; a nest among the branches 
of a great tree shaken by the winds ; a still 
haven on the edge of a tempestuous sea. And 
this is what religion means for those who are 
chosen and called to quietude and prayer and 
meditation." — x, i6. 



The other " But out yonder in the wide forest, who 

side of re- knows what storms are raving to-night in the 
ligion hearts of men, though all the woods are still ? 

Who knows what haunts of wrath and cruelty 
and fear are closed to-night against the ad- 
vent of the Prince of Peace ? And shall I 
tell you what religion means to those who are 
called and chosen to dare and to fight, and to 
conquer the world for Christ ? It means to 
launch out into the deep. It means to go 
against the strongholds of the adversary. It 
means to struggle to win an entrance for 
their Master everywhere. — x, 17. 

180 



Joy is essential to true religion. A gloomy No sadgos- 
religion is far from God. A sad gospel is a pel 
contradiction in terms, like a black sun. " Be- 
hold," said the angel, " I bring you good tid- 
ings of great joy, which shall be to all people." 
And that message was simply the news of a 
great power which had appeared in the world 
for salvation.— IV, 93. 



Christmas is truly the festival of childhood ; The festi- 
but it should also be the festival of mother- val of 
hood, for the child, even the holiest, is not motherhood 
divided from the mother. We may learn to 
think of infancy as sacred in the light that 
flows from the manger-cradle of Jesus. Yet 
it seems to me we cannot receive that truth 
perfectly unless we first learn to think of 
motherhood as holy in the memory of her 
whose virginal and stainless love found favour 
with God to receive and guard and cherish 
the Son of the Highest. — iii, 43. 

181 



The first "And here," said he, as his eyes fell on a 

Christmas- young fir-tree, standing straight and green, 
tree with its top pointing towards the stars, amid 

the divided ruins of the fallen oak, " here is 
the living tree, with no stain of blood upon it, 
that shall be the sign of your new worship. 
See how it points to the sky. Let us call it 
the tree of the Christ-child. Take it up and 
carry it to the chieftain's hall. You shall go 
no more into the shadows of the forest to 
keep your feasts with secret rites of shame. 
You shall keep them at home, with laugh- 
ter and song and rites of love. The thunder- 
oak has fallen, and I think the day is coming 
when there shall not be a home in all Ger- 
many where the children are not gathered 
around the green fir-tree to rejoice in the 
birth-night of Christ." — x, 72. 



SDetemBet ttDentp::;fiftl) 

Christmas Could every time-worn heart but see Thee 

once again, 
A happy human child, among the homes of 

men. 
The age of doubt would pass, — the vision of 

Thy face 
Would silently restore the childhood of the 

race. — ix, 59. 

182 



The birth of Jesus is the sunrise of the Anno 
Bible. Towards this point the aspirations of Domini 
the prophets and the poems of the psalmists 
were directed as the heads of flowers are turned 
towards the dawn. From this point a new 
day began to flow very silently over the world 
— a day of faith and freedom, a day of hope 
and love. When we remember the high 
meaning that has come into human Hfe and 
the clear light that has flooded softly down 
from the manger-cradle in Bethlehem of 
Judea, we do not wonder that mankind has 
learned to reckon history from the birthday of 
Jesus, and to date all events by the years be- 
fore or after the Nativity of Christ. — iii, 47. 



Modern art, splendidly equipped and full of Art and 
skill, waits for an inspiration to use its powers beneficence 
nobly. Modern beneficence, practical and en- 
ergetic, lacks too often the ideal touch, the 
sense of beauty. Both these priceless gifts, 
and who can tell how many more, may be re- 
ceived again when the heart of our doubting 
age, still cherishing a deep love of faith and a 
strong belief in love, comes back to kneel at 
the manger-cradle where a little babe reveals 
the philanthropy of God. — iii, x. 

183 



2Decem6ct ttoentp^^eigfttl^ 



Novels that 
strengthen 
the reader 



I do not ask my novelist to define and dis- 
cuss his doctrinal position, or to tell me what 
religious denomination he belongs to. I ask 
him only to show me good as good and evil 
as evil ; to quicken my love for those who do 
thejr best, and deepen my scorn for those 
who do their worst \ to give me a warmer 
sympathy with all sorts and conditions of 
men who are sincere and loyal and kind ; to 
strengthen my faith that life is worth living 
even while he helps me to realize how hard 
it is to live; to leave me my optimism, but 
not to leave it stone-blind ; not to depress me 
with cheap cynicism, but to nourish and 
confirm my heart in Sir Walter Scott's manly 
faith, that " to every duty performed there is 
attached an inward satisfaction which deep- 
ens with the difficulty of the task and is its 
best reward." — xxii, 163. 



2DetemBcr ttoentp^nintfi 

^hy neigh- Life teaches all but the obstinate and mean 

hour as thy- how to find a place in a free and noble state 

^^y and grow therein. A true love of others is the 

counterpart of a right love of self; that is, a 

love for the better part, the finer, nobler self, 

the man that is 



" to arise in me, 
* That the man that I am may cease to be." 

XXI, 

184 



32. 



Wtttxnbtt t^ittitt^ 

The day is coming when the great ship of Ti>e ship 
the world, guided by the hand of the Son of and the 
God, shall float out of the clouds and storms, ^^^^ 
out of the shadows and conflicts, into the per- 
fect light of love, and God shall be all In all. 
The tide that bears the world to that glorious 
end is the sovereignty of God, — vii, 279. 



SDecemfser tfiittp^fttr^t 

There seems to be a natural instinct which A benedic- 
makes us desire that every religious service Hon 
should end with a blessing. For nothing is 
more grateful and quieting to the heart than 

" the benediction 
That follows after prayer." 

After this old fashion would I close my book. 
The faces of my readers are unknown to me, 
even as the pilgrims who called through the 
darkness were unknown to the watchmen upon 
the Temple walls. But whoever you are, at 
least a benediction shall go after you. Your 
life is a pilgrimage. May mercy follow you 
out of Zion, and peace bring you to your home ! 

—I, 259. 

i8S 



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